The Antioxidant Repletion
by Shentropy Vortex
Summary: Penny may have eaten her way to first place in the competition against Leonard and Sheldon, but was all that Pie just an appetizer for the Big Mixed Emotion Sundae being served by Dr. Cooper? Check, please! Follows immediately after the pie-eating contest in Episode 6.04 The Re-Entry Minimization. M for language and adult themes. Disclaimer: I do not own The Big Bang Theory.
1. Ignoble Prize

"Done!" Penny shouted, springing up from her kneeling position in front of the now-empty pie plate. For the fifth time that evening, she had beaten her friends—and more specifically Dr. Sheldon Cooper—at another so-called "game." She gasped for breath, having literally inhaled blueberry goo for what seemed like five solid minutes, and watched as Sheldon, Amy, and Leonard rose up from their unfinished pies, grumbling through full mouths. Normally, she would have whooped a victory shout, or high-fived her teammate, or at least laughed at the ridiculousness of everyone's berry-smeared faces. After all, she was the pit bull in a room full of Chihuahuas.

But she wasn't taking much pleasure in her victory. She'd proven herself the better picture-drawer, math solver, and wrestler, and now she had Champion Pie-Eater on her list of titles. And all she felt was tired, bored, and stuffed to her gills in gelatinous fruit filling and crust. She exhaled heavily, puffing out her lips and groaning slightly. All that just because she wanted Sheldon to admit that while he was better at book-y, science-y stuff, Penny was better at practical things that normal people did.

But, as he had done four times before that evening, Sheldon found some way to cast aspersion on her victory. He'd already claimed the pie contest was tainted because he'd aspirated a berry up his nose, and now, his incredulity showing through the mess on his face, he refused to accept defeat.

"I challenge that!" he whined, standing up from the floor. "How can we prove you were the first to scarf down that pie? All of us were up to our earlobes in blueberries!"

"Sheldon," Penny retorted, lifting the plate with only a smear of filling and few crumbs on it. "The plate is empty. My mouth is empty. My stomach…" She stopped, suppressing a gurgle from her throat. "…is going to explode. Admit it; you're not the best at everything."

"Well this doesn't prove any superiority in aptitude or skill," Sheldon snapped, his indignant expression only somewhat obscured. "It just proves that, as always, you have an inhuman capacity to consume mass quantities of food or drink in an unhealthy and reckless manner."

"Whaddaya—BURP—mean, as always?" Penny shot back, stepping towards Sheldon so as to maximize the effect of her belch on his sense of propriety.

"You eat like a pig at the trough," he said, leaning into her space. "It's a miracle you still fit in the apartment!"

Now she was pissed. He had gone too far. She'd grown a thick skin when it came to his deprecating comments about her lack of academic success, her low-paying job, her messy apartment, or her checkered relationship history. But she would be damned if she let him call her a pig, or worse, imply that she would get fat. She was a lot of things, but she would never be fat like her mom.

"SHELDON!" she bellowed, her exasperation showing as bits of berry flew out her mouth. "You know what? Fine! You're right. I have no skill. I'm a dumb blonde waitress who knows what a cookie looks like, how to divide, and yes, I eat like a pig and drink like a fish. And even if my butt is getting too big for my skinny jeans, at least I'm not the freaking Noble Prize winner for WORLD'S BIGGEST ASS!"

She turned and charged out the door, still dripping with pie filling. The others looked at Sheldon with shock and disgust.

"Sheldon, she's right, you are being an ass," Leonard said, shaking his head. "Once again, you've turned a harmless game of Pictionary into an episode of Game of Thrones."

"It wasn't my idea to play Pictionary," Sheldon interjected. "As you recall, I had suggested the uproariously fun and exciting Physics Fiesta, which many great men have played…or would have played, had I been around to invent it."

"Whatever," Leonard sighed, waving off Sheldon. "You need to go apologize, after you clean up first."

"Yes, Sheldon, it was very rude of you to attack her like that." Amy chimed in for the first time, blinking as juice ran down her cheek. "No woman wants to be called a pig."

"It was merely an analogy; I wasn't saying she really was a member of the _suidae_ family." Sheldon intoned, matter-of-factly. "I was just pointing out that gluttony is not a skill, but a vice. She'll thank me later."

"Oh, Sheldon, I don't want to be around you when you're like this. I'm going over there to comfort my best friend. Good night, Sheldon." Amy turned towards the door, then to the bathroom. "Right after I clean off my face. May I use the bath sink to wash up?"

"Sure," Leonard replied, motioning toward the bath. "There's some towels in the closet."

"Thank you, Leonard." She strode in her awkward gait towards the hall, giving her boyfriend one last glare before disappearing in the bathroom.

"Amy," Sheldon said quietly, turning towards his girlfriend. Amy stopped, and looked at him, still annoyed.

"Yes, Sheldon?" she said, expecting him to address her frustration.

"Please don't use any of the white towels on the second shelf, or my Green Lantern bath towel; Blueberry juice is impossible to get out of cotton." He turned back to the table and began gathering the pie plates to put in the sink.

Amy harrumphed and stomped into the bathroom, while Leonard shook his head, licking blueberries from his lips.


	2. Got It All?

Penny lifted her head from her bathroom sink and looked intently in the mirror. Warm water trickled down her cheeks and dripped from her chin as she rinsed off the last of the cleanser from her face. Blotting her face with a towel, she turned her head left and right and inspected her hairline. Her hair was still wet from where she had hastily washed it in the shower, and it was combed back, giving a full view of her clean, unadorned visage. She sighed as she considered the oval-shaped face, the dimpled cheeks, the full, bee-stung lips, the smooth but prominent nose, and the well-trimmed brows that hooded those greenish-hazel eyes that drew so many compliments from friends and strangers alike.

_ Got it all,_ she thought to herself, seeing no traces of grime. Then she reflected on the irony of that thought. What all _did_ she have? A stalled acting career, a dependable but dead-end job slinging cheesecake, an on-again-off-again relationship with a nice guy that made a better friend than lover, a crowded yet lonely apartment that she really couldn't afford, and a circle of strange and loyal friends that amazingly had become like a second family. Oh, and she had her looks. They were her saving grace, her ace in the hole, the one thing that she knew would never fail to get her what she wanted. There always was a way of talking, flirting, and working what she had to open the doors and escape the jams of her life.

But as she looked deeper into the smooth, olive-toned skin of her face, she noticed that her cheeks seemed fuller, her eyes seemed shadier, and her chin looked more rounded than it did just a few short years before. She was getting older. Twenty-seven was hardly ancient, even by Hollywood standards, and, really, she was in the prime of her life. But time, though an abstract concept, does in fact move forward, though we are the ones that do the moving, and time is just a marker—and she was seeing more of those markers all the time.

_Time is just a marker._ Isn't that something that Sheldon would say?

_Ugh. Sheldon. Ass! _Picturing his smug, self-righteous face smothered in goo snapped her out of her introspection and onto the source of her present angst. Sometimes she just wanted to…_Grrr! _ She began angrily rubbing her head with the towel as the questions flew: Why couldn't he just once admit that, in spite of his best efforts to be a perfect robot, he was really a flawed human being? Why couldn't he acknowledge her strengths, or give her a hardy "Well played, Penny?" Why did he have to be so arrogant and yet so needy, so pompous and yet so innocent? The questions kept popping up in her brain as her annoyance and inner conflict grew. Then the question she didn't want to ask stopped her internal tirade in its tracks:

"Why did I kiss him?" she said out loud, dropping the towel on the sink. She stared into the mirror, as if the half-dressed girl in the mirror with the big, angry eyes was her inquisitor. She stood for a moment, willing the girl to give her the answer she wanted, but instead, only hearing the answer she dreaded: _Because he is your Moon Pie, your Whack-a-doodle, the man than perplexes and yet fascinates you in ways you've never known…_

The four rapid knocks on her door disrupted her musing, making her jump slightly. She recognized the knock as Amy's, although it seemed more forceful than usual. _Sounds pissed,_ she thought. _Obviously another casualty of Sheldon Cooper: Equal Opportunity Offender of Women Everywhere. _She quickly ran to her room and donned shorts and a T-shirt, then opened the door to her exasperated friend.

"Hey, Amy. Let me guess. Sheldon?" she greeted tersely as she stood in the doorway.

"Oh, Penny," Amy's face was taught with emotion, and the front of her shirt was wet. She engulfed Penny in a stiff, awkward hug, filling the blonde girl's eyes with surprise.

"There, there, sweetie," Penny cooed, returning Amy's embrace and patting her back. "He's an ass and a tool and a horrible person, and doesn't know how to play well with others."

"I've tried so hard to be patient with him, because he's come so far, but sometimes he just makes me want to…"

"…Grab his nose and pull? Twist his nipple? Throw his Green Lantern doll in the toilet?" Penny interjected, nodding her head and curling her lips in her usual look of annoyance mixed with menace.

"I was going to say cry, but those will all work just as well," Amy responded, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. "Of course, any of those acts would be flagrant violations of our Relationship Agreement. It would be grounds for termination."

"Termination of what, of being his plus one? Study buddy? Nose wiper?" Penny asked incredulously. "Talk to me. What did he do?"

"It wasn't so much what he did to me, but to you, calling you that," Amy trailed off, reticent to poke the fresh wound.

"What? A pig?" Penny huffed, straightening herself. "Trust me, Amy, I've been called worse. But I've just had enough of his snotty attitude, always telling me I'm dumb, clumsy, not good enough for him, and then he crawls back wanting he to drive him to the bank, or rub his hairless chest, or teach him how to wipe his own ass. He needs to apologize to all of us, because he's been given a free pass for too long."

Penny stomped into the kitchen, reaching into the fridge and pulling out a half-filled bottle of cheap white wine. "I think we need a little chaser after that mess, don't ya think, girlfriend?"

"Hit me, Bestie," Amy sighed, plopping on the sofa and letting out a disgruntled sigh. "Mama's not feeling like a winner tonight."


	3. The Bigger Man

**Thanks to all you Shenny fans out there for your favorties, follows, and reviews! We're getting into the mind of Sheldon now, a bit scary but we might learn something...  
**

_She was on top of him. His arm and side were still stinging from the catch-and-throw she had used to roll him on his back. His breath had been forcibly expired from his lungs, and now she was crushing his thorax by lying across his body, pinning his arms to the carpet with the vice-like grip of her man-hands. She was smiling and laughing with Amy, who was kneeling behind his head, with only the top of her brown hair visible from his supine position. With her considerable weight pressing down on his upper torso, and her wide hips neutralizing his legs, he was utterly defenseless, completely at her mercy, like a wounded fawn that has been pounced upon by a voracious jaguar. _

_What would be her next move? Already, his anxiety was escalating as he looked up into the wicked, hungry grin which peered down on him. He protested, begging her to release him. She had won the match, proved her point, and shown how much of a brute she really was. He was just about to cry out "Uncle!" when, to his horror, she licked her plump, moist, crimson-stained lips. Her eyes narrowed into blackened slits as her mouth puckered, and he closed his eyes in terror as her head snapped forward like a crocodile snatching its prey in its razor-lined jaws. _

_SMACK! Her lips pressed down on his nose, her breath billowing forth like a blast furnace, reeking of wine and potato chips. Her head bobbed upward with a lurid "MWAH" sound, leaving a trace of crimson on his face. _

_SMACK! He began to scream as her mouth collided with his right cheek, and then his left, each kiss smearing greasy lipstick on his pate. She looked up at Amy and laughed, and now he could see his girlfriend's eyes, burning with intention, staring down at him through her spectacles. _

_SMACK! Amy's wet lips assaulted his forehead. SMACK! Penny leaving her mark on his chin. SMACK! SMACK! SMACK SMACK SMACK…_

Sheldon's traumatic flashback was shattered by the belch that erupted from his throat, bringing with it the bitter taste of bile and berry juice. He had taken a shower, irrigated his sinus, brushed his teeth twice, gargled, and flossed, and he still felt seeds in his teeth and spots of stickiness on his face, hands, and hair. And he'd taken antacid tablets, milk of magnesia, and bicarbonate soda to no avail; his stomach was still roiling like a cauldron of hydrochloric acid. Yes, the evening had been, as the young folk said, an epic fail. And he was tonight's winner of the grand booby prize.

"Remind me why we agreed to the pie-eating contest again," Leonard grumbled, his own face green with sickness. He walked into the main room, his face twisted in a dark frown. "I think my stomach just did the Harlem Shake."

"It was Penny's idea," Sheldon murmured, sitting and staring at his computer monitor blankly. "They were left over from yesterday's stock at the Cheesecake Factory." He was playing an advanced version of SimCity, building an empire of robots, spaceships, and dragons. He sipped a can of ginger ale slowly, not taking his eyes off of the screen. And he kept thinking about _her_. Her hands firmly gripping his arms. Her eyes looking down on him like he was a fresh kill. Her mouth smiling, laughing, shouting. Her lips. Oh God, those wet, fleshy lips. The weight of her body on his. The smell of the sweat trickling down her chest. The heat of her breath on his face.

And the look she gave him before she assaulted him. The more he thought about it, the more he realized it wasn't the look of a predator seizing its prey, but the look of a sumptuous housecat about to pounce on her favorite toy. She enjoyed tormenting him, violating his space, ruffling his feathers. It was just a game to her. But to him, it was disrespectful, unpleasant, and repulsive. It was almost as bad as the bullies who tortured him throughout his school years. And yet…

He would be lying if there wasn't a certain…reaction to having this girl have her way with him. For even though she had thoroughly disgusted him with her behavior tonight, he knew that she cared for him, and had proven her loyalty and fidelity to their friendship time and again. Even though he felt like she had violated him, he knew it came from a good heart, and she really meant no harm. The fact that he wasn't curled up on his Star Wars sheets whimpering showed that he had grown more comfortable with her proximity and touch.

But he'd never seen this kind of horseplay from her before. He'd been harassed by girls before, but they weren't his friends—not like Penny was. He never was given to such infantile games as wrestling, football, or any of the other mindless contests that boys engaged in. He didn't even like tickling or pillow fights. But something about the playfulness of her aggression gave him pause. Those kisses she planted on him—did they symbolize affection, or were they just to "gross him out," as the kids were so fond of today?

He thought how his brother and sister would playfully rough-house with him, with their nose tweaks and pinches and what-not. Was that what this was like? Perhaps. But then why, after she had gotten off of him and high-fived Amy, was it difficult for him to sit up from the floor? She hadn't really hurt him—she just surprised him. Had he been…aroused? Had she stimulated a chemical response simply by forcing her body onto his?

He would never have allowed Amy to do such a thing, strict as he was in maintaining the boundaries of the Relationship Agreement. She never would have kissed him once on the face, let alone repeatedly against his vehement protests, except that Penny had emboldened her. Penny had simply overpowered him, physically and psychologically. She just threw herself on him, like a big dog excitedly leaping on her master. And he had no choice but to yield to her warm, wet shower of affection.

_Hmm, that was the second time I compared her to a quadruped in less than a minute, _he smiled to himself. _I should probably keep that to myself, seeing as she doesn't like my animal analogies. _

"So, are you going to go over there and apologize?" Leonard asked, suddenly sounding like Sheldon's mother.

Sheldon's eyes remained fixed to the screen. "I wasn't planning on it. Why should I have to apologize for speaking the truth? Sometimes the truth hurts. Perhaps now she'll think twice before she physically molests her friends."

Leonard screwed his face into a look of perturbation. "So that's what this is about? Because she pinned you in wrestling? Good God, Sheldon! She wasn't molesting you, she was just playing around."

Sheldon turned to face him. "Then I guess when that Speckerman fellow from your high school who chased us down the stairs was just playing around. And I suppose when Kurt ripped our pants off all those years ago, he was just playing around. And all those bullies in school…"

"Okay, okay, I get your point. She violated your space. She touched you with her lips. She was out of line."

"Out of line? Leonard, I don't think you appreciate the gravity of her offense. She knows I don't like being touched. I've only allowed her to embrace me a few times, and she went from a friendly hug to jumping on top of me, holding me down, and slobbering all over my face. I've filed police charges over less."

"Yes, I remember the mime incident of 2007," Leonard said, looking up in resignation. "But Penny is not a mute stranger in face paint and tights. She's one of your best friends. And I know at least a couple hundred guys who would gladly let Penny pin them to the ground and slobber on them."

"Leonard, you know I am not like any of these knuckle-dragging hippies who copulate with anything resembling a female. I allow access to my body to only myself, and that only for the purposes of personal hygiene. The only other people who have had permission to touch me below my neck are my mother and Meemaw. And that was only because I was a helpless infant and unable to care for myself."

Leonard pursed his lips and pressed his eyes shut. "Oh God, Sheldon, I do not want to hear about your Meemaw changing your diapers again. I'm going to bed. Go apologize to Penny. Be the bigger man. Demonstrate magnanimous chivalry. Be a friend."

"I am a friend, I'm just not sure I like her very much right now." Sheldon returned to his game. "Besides, I don't think any of us could be a bigger man than Penny."

Leonard scoffed, then smiled mischievously. "Yeah, she can be kind of rough. She's pinned me down a few times…" Leonard turned towards his room, grinning.

"Leonard?" Sheldon interjected, not turning from his empire.

"Yes, Sheldon?" Leonard turned, still in his reverie.

"May I remind you of the 'Don't Ask, Don't Tell' amendment to the Roommate Agreement, which states that roommates shall not share intimate details of their sexual activity to one another? It's in the updated version of the revised edition I slid under your door three weeks ago."

Leonard's face melted into one of anger. "Yes, Sheldon. I guess I'll go to my room and think about it. Good night." He turned and stomped into his room and shut the door.

"I won't ask, and I won't tell," Sheldon muttered under his breath, reaching for his ginger ale.


	4. KABOOM!

**A/N: Thanks again for sticking with us as we now cross the hallway to Apt. 4B, where the girls have imbibed in spirits and girl talk...**

"Ohh…..Penny…." Amy groaned, her steps slow and awkward as she shuffled out of the bathroom. "Thanks for holding back my hair. You're a porcelain angel."

"Uh…sure, no problem…ugh…" Penny said as she helped guide her inebriated friend, gingerly stepping behind her, her hands on her shoulders. "Good thing I only got one glass of wine down before you finished off that bottle. I think I'd be joining you."

"Yes, I've…. learned a sobering…. Oof… lesson this evening. Blueberries…. plus relationship angst…. plus cheap wine equals ka-boom."

The two tipsy girls stumbled back to their seats on Penny's couch, grumbling as they settled into their spots. Amy lifted up the empty bottle from the floor, held it up to the light, and then inverted it into her lips, a small trickle of liquid sliding towards her mouth. Penny grabbed the bottle from her and threw it aside. "No more Turning Leaf for you, Wino. I'm cutting you off."

"Oh, Bestie, I have a problem," Amy whined, her face red and puffy. "I'm a girl in love with an illusion. My heart beats for a man with no heart." She rubbed her face and looked downward.

"Amy, you deserve so much better," Penny placed her hand on Amy's thigh. "You're a successful, intelligent woman with so much to offer the right man. Sheldon is just a boy in a bubble. You need to demand that he give you the respect and affection you want or terminate _his_ ass."

"I am a woman, and I have needs," Amy looked in the direction of apartment 4A, her jaw stiffening with defiance. "And damn it, I want some sugar, you arrogant bastard!"

"Girl, you know it!" Penny lifted her hands haphazardly in affirmation. "He better give you some of that or he gone!"

"Penny, you inspired me this evening," the bespectacled girl gushed, taking her friend's hands in hers. "When you threw your body on top of Sheldon's, I realized that I have to be fearless and use my body to get what I want, like you do."

"Well, I don't always have to use my body," Penny cautioned. "Sometimes I use my mind…like when I talked my way out of that speeding ticket that one time."

"No, I think you used your body that time, too."

"Uh, the cop couldn't see my body, I was sitting in the car. That was all negotiation and influence. There was so shaking of any moneymakers going on that day," Penny retorted, taking her hands away and holding them up in protest.

"Penny, I don't think you realize how persuasive your powers of persuasion can be. You don't need your moneymaker, you can light up a man's crotch with your eyeballs."

Penny and Amy sit looking at each other for a beat, then burst into laughter. "Yeah, I guess I have my sexy eyes," Penny said, giggling. "He did seem to be impressed with my nonverbal communication skills."

The blonde coughed a little bit and felt her throat. "I need some water. And you should probably eat some crackers. Sit tight and I'll grab some for us." She got up and headed for the kitchen.

"You know, I was probably as shocked as Sheldon was when you mounted him," Amy mused after a moment. "I have to submit a written request for physical intimacy at least 48 hours in advance."

"Well, I wouldn't call it intimate," Penny responded, pulling two bottled waters out of the fridge. "It's was just two friends playing around on the floor. Didn't you do that with your friends in school?"

"If you call being tied to an office chair and pushed into the janitor's closet playing around, then yes," Amy answered ruefully.

"Oh, I keep forgetting you guys were on the other side of that," Penny slumped her shoulders and turned her eyes downward. "Yeah, I guess I really did cross a line with him."

"If you ask me, it was a line that needed crossing," Amy waved her hand loosely. "He needs to loosen up. If I had been on top of him, I'd have shoved my tongue down his throat."

"Uh, ok then, Pamela Anderson," Penny cocked her head back. "Date rape much?"

"You don't understand," Amy said, shifting her legs. "I am a steaming kettle of pressurized sexual energy, ready to explode all over the first man that shakes me. I'm a sex time bomb, Bestie!"

Penny stood in front of her increasingly fidgety friend, and handed her a bottle of water and a sleeve of crackers. "Take this, please, before you explode all over my couch cushions."

The two girls sipped their waters in silence, then Amy perked up. "You know, I did get a little worried that you were actually enjoying kissing him."

Penny's eyes fluttered, then quickly rolled. "Are you kidding? Really? Dr. Done-little? Good God, Amy! Trust me, there was nothing there, honestly."

_Yep, there was nothing there. Absolutely nothing. Yeah, that sounds good…_

"Well, I knew I'd better get in on the action or you'd have his pants down for a three count," Amy sniffed.

"Wait a minute!" Penny protested, setting her bottle down. "Are you telling me you were getting _jealous_?"

_Hmm. Score one for Penny. And so it begins…_

"Well, seeing as I've never been able to kiss him in the two years of our Arrangement, and in less than five seconds you'd had more foreplay than I've had in my life, then yes, I suppose I was feeling a little…left out."

Penny stood up, pointing her finger. "Okay, Amy, I know you're drunk, but you need to step back. I'm telling you, you had nothing to worry about."

_Nothing to worry about. Yep, I had it all under control. Right where I wanted him…_

Now Amy struggled to her feet. "I may be shit-faced, but I can see things clear as a bell, plain as the hair on my face. You two have been playing this game of no-touch tango for five years now, and you've slowly inoculated him to your feminine charms. What's next, dropping a pen and bending over in front of his marker board? 'Cause honey, I tried that move and he didn't even look up from his coefficients!"

Penny gritted her teeth and drew in a breath to protest.

_Knock knock knock. _"Penny"

"NOT NOW, SHELDON!" the two women bellowed in unison. There was silence, and they stood looking at each other with burning eyes.

_Knock knock knock._ "Penny."

"Go the hell away, Sheldon!" Penny screamed at the door.

Another few moments of silence. Penny drew in a slow breath through her nostrils and breathed out.

"Amy, I—"

_Knock knock knock._ "Penny."

Penny turned around and ripped open the door, and with closed eyed and pursed lips, intoned slowly.

"Sheldon, I will sing 'Soft Kitty' over the grave I will throw your body into if you don't turn around and go back to your room right now."

Sheldon stood for a moment, looking at Penny, then Amy, then Penny again with a curious expression.

"Now, Sheldon." Penny's face was quaking with rage.

"If you wish to kill me and bury me in an unmarked grave, that is fine. But before you do that, I have something that needs to be said…"


	5. Forgiveness or Fight Club?

**Well, here they are, will there be a Kumbaya moment? Or will Sheldon be, well, Sheldon? Thanks again for all your great reviews! It humbles me that so many people care to follow this story! **

"You have sixty seconds, Sheldon," Penny said, her eyes narrowed and hard.

"Sixty seconds? Well that's hardly enough time to disseminate the information I have to talk about. This has been on my mind for a while and…"

"Fifty. Seconds," she said through taut jaws.

"Oh, alright. I guess I'll just cut to the chase and say it: I forgive you."

Penny raised her eyebrows, opened her mouth, then narrowed her eyes again. "You..what?"

"I forgive you. For physically assaulting me this evening in my own home. I acknowledge that our relationship has progressed to a level of collegiality where fraternal hugging and the occasional slap on the back might have led you to assume that tackling me to the ground and smothering me with saliva was within the parameters of our relational paradigm. So I don't blame you for taking liberties and crossing that line. After all, we were in the midst of an intense competition to determine who was the superior team in a series of contests and…"

"What. The hell. I don't believe you, Sheldon," Penny opened the door wider to allow Amy to witness the festivities. "YOU forgive ME? Shouldn't you be begging MY forgiveness? Shouldn't you be saying, I don't know, I'M SORRY?" She huffed, turned, and stomped into the apartment.

"What do you mean I should beg your forgiveness? You assaulted me, after all. You should be the one apologizing," he said incredulously, his hand stiff at his sides in his most declamatory posture.

Now it was Amy's turn. "Listen here, Dr. Cooper. You better apologize to my best friend, or shit's gonna get real!" Amy leered at him with wide eyes and a look of menace. "And when I say it's gonna get real, I mean real ca-RAZY!"

Sheldon leaned back and twisted his face in disgust. "Amy, judging by the dense alcoholic fumes pouring from your mouth, I surmise that you've been drinking. So I can understand your arbitrary determination of epistemological truth. Let me assure you that things are indeed already real, and you yourself are embodying the craziness you're going on about."

"Oh, this is so ON!" Amy started towards Sheldon, her arms outstretched as if you grab his 73 shirt. Her progress was stymied by Penny, who managed to hold back the outraged scientist.

"Go now, Sheldon," she spat out with daggers in her eyes. "Or I'll let her finish you off and dump you in a ravine!" She pulled Amy out of the doorway and slammed the door in his face.

"Fine. So much for trying to be the bigger man," he said, turning and going back to the apartment.

Penny let go of Amy and she grabbed her sweater and straightened it. The two girls glared at the closed door, breathing heavily.

"The nerve. _He_ forgives _me_?" Penny barked with a sarcastic smile. "Oh my God, I actually thought he was going to apologize!" She shook her head and scoffed, turning back towards the couch.

"You should have let me go, Penny," Amy grumbled in a lethal tone. "I wanted to break one off in his ass for hurting my home girl."

"Amy, stop trying to be gangsta and sit down," Penny ordered, pointing to the sofa. "Finish your water. I'm gonna go make room on my bed. You're not driving home like this."

"You mean our girl fight club throw-down has turned into a Bestie slumber party?" Amy suddenly brightened, clapping her hands. "Yea, yea, yeah!"

"Go team," Penny wearily lifted a half-hearted fist pump. "I'll get you some pajamas." She slowly started toward the bedroom, walking with the slow gait of a woman in her ninth month. She placed her hands on her lower back as a loud gurgling noise rumbled from her stomach. "Oh God—" she gagged as she bolted for the bathroom.

Amy started hobbling rapidly after her friend and shouted, "Wait, wait, wait Bestie! Let me hold back your hair…"


	6. Prelude to a Dream (or 3)

**Sorry it's been a while since the last chapter...my computer was stolen! Thanks again for all the follows and reviews! I promise, there's good stuff coming up for Shenny fans! The next few chapters are going to get _ca-razy_, but before that, let's see who's sleeping in Penny's bed...**

Amy's hands slithered over Penny's body like a drunken octopus, her tentacle-like arms blindly reaching for anything that was soft, warm, and tactile. She snorted in Penny's ear, and saliva trickled from the corner of her mouth, her breath heavy with alcohol and digestive juices. _She's probably having a lesbian sex dream about me right now,_ Penny thought as she tried to turn away from her sleeping friend's groping and pinching. She'd cleaned up after Sheldon's stupid remarks caused her to lose the swirling mass of berries and wine sloshing around in her gut, and by the time she got to her room, Amy was stripped to her underwear, face-down and spread-eagled on her bed, snoring like a 300-pound truck driver. She tried as best she could to gently move the small but awkward girl to one side of the full-size bed, but now stared at the digital numbers on her clock that read 2:23.

Wide-awake and uncomfortable, Penny tried to take her mind of her bed partner by thinking pleasant thoughts of happier times, but only kept coming back to Sheldon, his derision, his arrogance, and his complete lack of understanding of her feelings. But she also thought about how great it felt to have him underneath her body, how his legs felt kicking against her ass, how his supple arms felt in her hands.

And when her lips tasted his sweaty, panicked, beautiful face, she knew she was boldly going where no girl had gone before. But there was something even more surprising than that: She realized that she liked the taste of Sheldon. She hated to admit it, but what was supposed to be a playful game of Tackle the Nerd and Make Him Cry Like a Girl had turned into something much more than she had expected. It may have freaked Sheldon out, even violated him emotionally, but it did something much more troublesome to Penny.

It had sparked something that indeed had been smoldering for years, and even now, just thinking about it to herself, made her heartbeat quicken, her body temperature change, and her throat to swallow.

_I WANT TO KISS HIS LIPS NEXT TIME…HARD…AND LONG…_

* * *

Sheldon had completed all of his nighttime rituals and procedures and was now lying in his bed, staring at the ceiling. He had gotten to bed later than he preferred, having lost himself in his SimCity game, something that he rarely allowed himself to do. But the thoughts that he had lost himself in then were still swirling in his mind now.

_Why did she have to make the decisive match an eating contest? She had to have known that I am very careful about eating anything, and immersing my face in a pan of sticky syrup and half-baked pastry was a guaranteed win for her. Couldn't she have at least allowed me the humane use of a utensil? But no, she had to drag us all back millions of years in evolutionary development and eat with our faces like animals. Such a disgusting display! That girl is certainly no lady! She's got the manners of a Neanderthal truck driver, that one…_

_And why did she have to violate my personal space? She knows that I trust her, that I expect her to respect my privacy, my body, my feelings. And yet she tackled me like one of the helpless swine on her farm. Salivating on me like a rabid beast. Laughing at my discomfort. It was so rude, so infuriating, so…fascinating._

_Why didn't it bother me more? Why didn't I retire right then, cite her for contempt of my person, and withdraw from the evening's events? Why did I continue to engage her obviously over-competitive and bloodthirsty need to humiliate me in front of my friends and colleagues? Was it pride? Anger? Fear? Madness? _

_There is no logical explanation for why the events of the night transpired as they did. But why should I be surprised? Anything involving that Blonde Beast of a Woman is fraught with chaos, mayhem, and foolishness! Logic and civility mean nothing to her! She is a reckless, deadly, thrilling Force of Nature!_

_I cannot stop thinking about what she did tonight! Because it was so unexpected. So shocking. So…exciting._

_She has so heavy…I never expected all that weight on top of me. And so STRONG…Dear Lord, her hands were like vice clamps on my arms! They're still tender and probably bruised from them! And her face…I've never seen her face like that before. She wanted to devour me. And yet, those eyes were smiling, too. She didn't just want me. She desired me. She liked the way I felt, smelled, looked. If we had been alone in that room, I believe it would have gone much differently, much slower, much more excruciatingly. For all I know, we could still be on that carpet…_

_Get a hold of yourself, Sheldon! You cannot even entertain the possibility… It would violate all of the laws of nature that you've established over the years to order your universe, it would shatter the equilibrium you've worked so hard to achieve, and it most certainly would alter the trajectory that you have maintained for your career, which will reach its apex not many years from now as the Nobel Committee awards you the Prize in Physics! Be strong, be wise, and most of all, get your rest! You need all the REM sleep you can get if you have any hope of being useful tomorrow!_

Though he didn't feel the least bit tired, he closed his eyes, laid his hands at this sides and began breathing in a regular, deep rhythym, trying his hardest to forget what it felt like to have the very Forces of Nature on top of him…


	7. Gimme More of Your Bad Romance

_**Again, sorry for the long wait. Things get a little weird as we begin the first of three dream sequences. First up is Amy: Her role in this thing has become more intense then I originally envisioned. The dream picks up the girls' argument before Sheldon interrupted. Sort of. Anyway, I own none of the artists, songs, or characters that appear in this chapter, and I can't tell you how hard it was to sit through Britney's video in preparation for this chapter. But at least you know why it took so long to write it...**_

"Tack nobelkomittens medlemmar för denna prestigefyllda utmärkelse..."

Amy drew in a breath and released it slowly as she watched Sheldon begin his acceptance speech in the native Swedish tongue. From her location off of the stage in the Stockholm City Hall, she could see him, resplendent and regal in his custom-tailored tuxedo, his hair combed to the side in that adorable yet fashionable way, and the crisp, confident gestures that always indicated that he was in his element. Her breath quivered when she considered the broad shoulders and the large, articulate hands that now gestured some deep scientific truth to the attentive crowd. _They're really eating this up,_ she thought to herself, and realized that she too was enjoying the abundant repast that was Dr. Sheldon Cooper, PhD, Nobel Laureate. _Like an all-you-can-eat Scientific Genius Buffet, _she mused, licking her sable lips.

She shifted her weight in her six-inch platforms, their black diamond studs reflecting the dim light of the room adjoining the main hall. She had went with her one-strap little black dress with the crimson sequins for this evening, as she wanted to make a grand impression without being gaudy or overly ostentatious. She tugged lightly at her platinum wig for the hundredth time, careful not to loosen the pins holding the five-spiked crown that seemed to be protruding out of her cranium. She hoped that the LCD lights that illuminated the spikes would work, as they had been a last-minute change from the live raven she had planned coming out with. _Oh my God,_ she started, batting her long false eyelashes with the heavy red eye shadow. _Am I too dark? Too funereal?, _she fretted, her stoic chin not betraying her internal terror. _Of course, this could be _our_ funeral,_ she mused, looking out of the cracked door to the crowd.

The crowd snickered with polite laughter as Sheldon told one of his patented cornball physics jokes, rendered even more banal when translated into the local dialect. _It's too late, he's bombing, I need to make my entrance now._ She nodded to the lighting director she'd bribed with 10,000 Euros, who cut the house lights and turned the spotlight to stage right.

Sheldon jerked his head in that awkward way he always did when caught off guard, and creased his forehead as he tried to see who was interrupting his grand moment. Amy crossed the threshold of the doorway, and his mouth formed a terrified "O" as she stared brazenly into his eyes and sang,

"Rah rah ah-ah-ah!

Ro-mahro-mah-mah!

Gaga ooh-la-la!

Want your BAD ROMANCE!"

She strutted like a panther into the light, followed closely by six large backup dancers, all of them dressed like birds of prey. The crowd gasped, but the sound was drowned out by the backup track that was booming from the antiquated PA system. She continued, locked in on his face, staring unblinkingly into his eyes through white contact lenses she had donned in lieu of her usual spectacles. He began twitching and grimacing, his shock turning into anger as she neared him.

"I want your ugly, I want your disease," She sang to him, stopping inches in front of him. Her high heels enabled her to look him straight in the eyes, which were wild with panic and rage.

"I want your love," she continued. "Love, love, love, I want your love!" With the last word she threw her hand up and stopped the music, her dancers freezing in various positions.

"Sheldon," she said, her face still with smoldering eyes. "For ten years I've waited for your romance. Any romance—good, bad, or otherwise. And now that you've achieved your life's goal, I want to lay claim to _my_ prize—your body."

With that, she wrapped her arm around his neck, pulled him aggressively down from the dais and engulfed his mouth with her lips, thrusting her tongue into his gaping orifice. For ten long seconds, she tasted the warm wetness therein, entwining her mouth with his until she pulled out, making his lips smack. She gasped, then let her face slowly curl into a satisfied grin. "Mmmm," she purred, licking her chops. "Mommy like, Doctor…"

She was about to jump back into the chorus when an antiquated telephone rang in her ear. She reached up to wireless mic that doubled as a Bluetooth and tapped the side. "Hello?" she snapped, annoyed with the interruption.

The voice on the other end crackled, "It's Penny, Bitch."

The main doors in the back of the hall burst open, and the PA roared to life with the distorted bass notes of a techno beat as the crowd divided. The spotlight shifted to the figure of a blonde girl in what looked like black lace underwear, strutting down the center of the room, followed by a compliment of leather-clad hip-hop dancers. Her eyes locked in on the stage, honing in on the Nobel Prize-winning scientist.

"Every time they turn the lights down, just wanna go that extra mile for you," Penny rapped, slowing her strut as she approached the platform. "You got my display of affection, feels like no else in the room but you." She stopped, and began shaking her hips and grinding two of the dancers.

"Whore!" Amy shouted, but her words were drowned out by the deafening track. Sheldon squirmed free from her grasp and back away from the podium and toward the back wall. She tried to follow him but her feet got twisted and she fell down, sequins and lights flying in all directions, taking the dancer dressed like a vulture to the ground with her.

Now Penny moved toward Sheldon as she purred in her raunchiest tone, "Gimme, Gimme More, Gimme, Gimme More!" Amy's dancers helped her back on her feet, as Sheldon screamed and backed away from the two women, his face twisted in horror. Penny continued swaying suggestively toward the physicist, and Amy suddenly felt frozen as Penny reached out and grabbed Sheldon, pushing her body into his and onto the wall.

"The center of attention, even when we're up against the wall," Penny rasped, shoving him hard with her hands, her leg pinned against his thigh. "You got me in a crazy position. If you're on a mission you got my permission…"

The music stopped, and Penny licked her lips and moaned, "I see you…and I just can't control myself." She devoured his face with hers, caressing, nibbling, burying him with passionate kisses, holding his head in her hands even as she pressed the full weight of her figure against him.

Amy growled under breath and rushed up to the couple, grabbing the blonde by the shoulder and whipping her around. "Get your skanky ass off of my man!" she bellowed, then pushed Penny to the floor, shocking the crowd.

Sheldon took the opportunity for freedom and ran crying out of the other side of room. "You women are insane! Where's Meemaw? MEEMAW!" He disappeared into the hallway on the opposite side of Amy's entrance.

Amy stood over Penny, her fists clenched and teeth bared. Already, the room was building with noise as the two dance crews started slapping and kicking each other. Penny looked up, and through gritted teeth hissed, "He doesn't want you, Amy. He wants a real woman who knows how to take a man and please him. He wants ME!" She sprang up and grabbed Amy's wig, ripping it off with the crown. The crowd gasped as Amy's graying tresses were now exposed.

Amy reached out and grabbed Penny at her side, pulling what appeared to be her tight abdomen, but with a ripping sound her belly expanded with a grotesque flop. Amy smiled as she held the flesh-colored girdle high in the air.

"We've both gotten older waiting for him," Amy sneered. "But how can an old bimbo like you love the Nobel prize winner?"

"My eating and drinking might have caught up with me," Penny laughed, shifting heavily on her feet. "But I know the quickest way to a man's heart is his crotch. And no matter how big my butt gets," she said, her rear end blowing its restraints and suddenly doubling in size. "I can still rock any man's world. Even Dr. Whack-A-Doodle!"

"HE'S MINE!" Amy bellowed, throwing herself at Penny in a rage. The two women grabbed each other's arms and started slapping each other, grabbing and pulling each other, ripping fabric, pulling hair, and snagging flesh. The crowd began to rumble and cheer as someone shouted, "Tjejslagsmål!"

Suddenly, Amy felt something small and hard splash against her cheek. She thought it was blood, but then she looked at Penny and saw a purple trickle down the side of her face. Then two more hard drops of fluid, and the two of them stopped their struggle. Penny reached into her torn hair and pulled out a small blue ball. She looked at it oddly, then popped it in her mouth.

"A blueberry?" Penny scoffed, still chewing. "What the—"

Suddenly, a groaning sound could be heard from the ceiling. More berries dropped in a steady shower. Amy and Penny looked up and had just enough time to scream "Oh Sh—" before the giant wave of blueberries crashed down on them, burying them alive…

* * *

Amy flailed her arms awkwardly as her eyes cracked open to see the darkness of Penny's room, illuminated by the digital clock which said 3:35. Her arms were moving in space, which told her she was alone in the bed. She groaned, half-conscious and hung over, wondering where Penny was. It was just as well. She'd just had a mash-up war with her best friend over her boyfriend's tentative affections, culminating in a blueberry avalanche. Groaning again, she closed her eyes and pulled the pillow over her head.

_No Bestie Slumber Party after all, _she thought to herself as she tried to shut out the pain in her head.


	8. The Radial Transection

_**It's been a crazy day on top of a crazy week, so I appreciate your patience. To anyone in the Boston area, I pray that you and yours are safe. **_

_**Well, it's Penny's turn to journey into dreamland, and this where things start to come together for Shenny. As promised, things are heating up. Because of this, I've upgraded the story to an M rating. I hope you continue to enjoy the story, it's my first long story, so please continue with your reviews and comments! Thanks!**_

_**Oh, and thanks to the Swedish reader who corrected my translations in the last chapter. Tack sa mycket!**_

* * *

"Hold the door!" Penny shouted breathlessly, running towards the elevator with economy-sized jug of fabric softener in hand. It was laundry night, and if she had any hope of partying with the girls after work the next night, her underwear needed to be spring fresh. And even with the time she'd lose riding down the glacier-paced lift, it was so worth it just to catch her breath.

Sheldon leaned his shoulders out of the door. "I can't hold the door for you, I have my laundry basket situated in the space beside me, and it would create an imbalance in the capacity of the car, and…"

"Oh, let me in, Sheldon," Penny grumbled, pushing the door open and kicking his basket to the rear. "I'm not going to cause the elevator to crash, if that's what you mean. That isn't what you mean, is it? 'Cause I've been hitting the bike and counting my carbs…"

"That isn't what I meant," Sheldon lectured, folding his hands in front of him and maintaining space between them. "I was trying to politely and discretely request that you not ride in the lift with me, because I prefer to have a radius of two feet when riding in an enclosed space."

She turned and gave him a sinister smile. "Oh, then pardon me while I transect your radius," she teased, drawing closer to the lanky scientist. "Betcha didn't see that one coming," she bragged, clucking her tongue.

"What, your lack of proper proxemics or your knowledge of basic geometric principles?" he rolled his eyes wearily. "While I admit I am surprised that you're able to recall your freshman year of high school, your lack of social grace is business as usual."

"It was senior year," she mumbled to herself. Realizing his meaning, Penny matched his eye roll, paired with a groan. "You're STILL hung up on the wrestling match, Sheldon? Look, it was all in good fun. But just to make you happy," she said, raising her right hand. "I promise, I will NEVER touch your body again."

"I intend to hold you to that promise," he said, nonplussed.

For the next few moments, they rode in silence, save for the drone of the slow-moving elevator motor. Penny sighed, then fanned herself absent-mindedly.

"You know, I can't believe they fixed the elevator just yesterday," she said, tugging at the collar of the purple shirt that matched the blueberry pie she'd gorged herself on the previous evening. She looked down, noticing her second button had come undone, and quickly refastened it. "Six years of climbing the stairs and in one day—POOF!" She said, accentuating the last interjection with a puff of discomfort.

"Yes, it's amazing what the maintenance department can accomplish when they put their MIND to it," he said, smiling in his awkwardly mischievous way. A few more seconds passed, then he stiffly tugged at the collar of his Flash T-Shirt and said in an exaggerated tone, "Oh my, is it getting WARM in here?"

"Yeah, I'm actually starting to sweat," Penny said, fumbling at her re-opened button. A trickle of perspiration was working its way down her forehead. "Guess they didn't get around to fixing the air."

"Well, even if they had, I still would have been able to alter the ambient temperature of the car," Sheldon said with an awkward giggle.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Penny responded with agitation.

Sheldon reached out and slammed his hand on the Emergency Stop button, bringing the lift to a grinding halt between the second and third floors. He beamed wickedly as he looked at the increasingly uncomfortable blonde.

"BAZINGA!" he shouted victoriously, turning towards her and tilting out his chin in a defiant gesture. "You've just been zapped, Prairie Dawn!"

"Okay, you're starting to really freak my out," she now turned and matched Sheldon's defensive stance. "What the eff is going on? I'm sweating like a pig, and you've reached a whole new level of crazy. What gives?"

"Have you ever heard of the phenomenon known as telekinesis?" Sheldon asked playfully.

Penny twisted her expressive lips, befuddled. "Isn't that the thing where the guy bends a spoon with his mind?"

Sheldon snickered dismissively. "Oh, such parlor tricks have become so banal. The brain is such a powerful tool, with so much untapped potential. It naturally fell to me to discover the next level in the evolution of its manipulative powers."

Penny started fanning herself again, her underarms now saturated, her skin glowing with perspiration. "You cannot be serious! You've lost your mind!"

"On the contrary, I've found a whole new dimension of my mental capacity," Sheldon said, now taking a more serious tone. "Or haven't you noticed the air temperature steadily increasing since you squeezed yourself into this elevator?"

Penny's hand fumbled her neck as a drop of sweat rolled down her chest. "What the crap? You're not really turning this into a sauna, are you?" Her words came out in thirsty gasps.

"Yes, it's true," Sheldon replied, with a hint of a smile on his lips. "But that's just the beginning. I not only can manipulate the air molecules around us, but also solids. Observe."

He flicked his eyes to the right, and the third button of Penny's blouse popped loose, exposing the top of her bra.

"SHELDON!" she cried out, her voice hoarse. "I swear to God, I'll…" she trailed off, her eyes narrowed and mouth clenched. She was really getting pissed off, but she could not deny the sudden rush of blood to her face.

"Oh, I'm just getting started. You know, as I was lying in my bed last night, unable to sleep because of your egregious invasion of my personal space, I wondered, 'How would Penny feel if I invaded her space…imposed MY self on her person…played around with her sensibilities?"

"Sheldon Cooper, you stop this ri—" Her maternal tone was cut off by something caught in her mouth. She worked her jaws, a look of disgust curling her lips. "Blueberries? Why do I taste blueberries?"

"You see, not only can I manipulate matter with my telekinetic powers," Sheldon continued. "Thanks to the rush of hormones you unleashed in my body last night, I now have the ability to manipulate brain waves. You've let slip the dogs of lust, Missy!"

"WUST?!" Penny cried, a glob of saliva trickling from her mouth. "AAUGH…BOOBEWIES! My mow is fo uh boobewies! I sown wike fweekin KWEPKE!"

"You only THINK your mouth is full of blueberries. There are other things I can put in that cavernous, perpetually-moving orifice of yours!" His eyes narrowed, and he closed his mouth, his cheeks sucking inward.

Penny's eyes swelled to their maximum volume as she swallowed hard. Her mouth began puckering and cheeks undulating. Her eyes fluttered upward, her tongue moving against her cheeks. She mumbled and moaned softly as she took in the taste of his imaginary tongue.

"You see, my beautiful blonde anomaly," Sheldon said, taking a step forward. "Over the past six years there has been a force exerting itself between us. Sometimes repelling, sometimes attracting, but never drawing us completely together, always maintaining a safe distance. I rather liked things that way. But even so, my perception of you has been altered over time in such a way that, now, I feel the forces are pulling us closer than ever." He stopped, looking at her with a face of resolve.

"Mmmh?" Penny mumbled quizzically, slowly backing towards the corner of the car.

"This caused no small amount of stress on my part," he continued, taking another step towards her. "You know my need for personal space and disapproval of any physical contact, even by my closest friends and associates, not to mention my needy significant other." The mention of Amy elicited a slight shake of his head in annoyance, and then he continued. "Imagine my surprise when I realized I could indulge these new feelings of attraction and still maintain protective isolation! Talk about Eureka moment!" He snickered at his wit, then quickly resumed his determined expression.

"Mmm…Um-Hmm," Penny nodded, still moving backward and fumbling awkwardly at her blouse. Her body was surging with new sensations, and her sense of fear was quickly being engulfed by a sense of eager abandon. She smiled to herself, even as her heart was hammering in her chest. Now that she knew what the game was, she could play the student to his teacher…for now.

_Ohhh Whack-a-Doodle, _she mused as the evil, salacious thoughts multiplied in her desire-engorged mind. _Whack a doodle doodle doo…_

Her mouth suddenly was loosed, and she moaned as her eyes closed and she slid slowly down the back of the elevator car. He stood over her, arms folded, eyes firmly fixed on the subject of his own growing hunger.

The sound of the remainder of her buttons ricocheting off the sides of the stalled elevator echoed with her breathy voice, sighing his name…

* * *

Penny jerked herself awake, kicking the armrest of the couch and banging her hand on the floor. The slight jabs of pain brought her a foggy level of consciousness, her head aching and her mouth sandpaper dry. Even so, she was damp with sweat, and her pulse was racing. A sense of relief began to spread through her as she realized it had only been a dream.

_Oh no. Oh dear God, no. _Her relief was short-lived as she remembered the images and sensations that were still fresh in her mind like ghost figures on an exposed film. _I did not have a sex dream. About Sheldon. In an elevator. _

_Yes, yes you did, _the other side of her consciousness retorted. _And it was terrifying. And exciting. And HOT. _

She blinked into the dark as she gripped her blanket, suddenly feeling dreadful, vulnerable, and exhilarated, all at the same time.

_Please, please make me forget this ever happened,_ she implored the voice in her heart. _I can't look at Sheldon's face, hear his condescending voice, look at his mouth…knowing I went there, even in a dream._

_But nothing actually happened. It WAS a dream, after all, _the voice replied.

And though she knew it was true, the fact did nothing to lower her pulse rate or make her breathing any easier.


	9. Talk Thlngan to Me

**First of all, I apologize that this chapter is a little longer than usual, but, as it is the climactic third dream, I suppose it is warranted. Second, I do not own any part of the Star Trek franchise or its constituent life forms, languages, or locales; So please forgive any artistic liberties or mistakes in this story. Third, there is a crapload of Klingon in this chapter, so if any of you Trekkers are fluent in _thlngan Hol_ out there, please feel free to correct me in the reviews. If you need help with translation, you can Google any number of Klingon phrasebooks, dictionaries, or lexicons out there, and, if you need spiritual enlightenment, there's even a Klingon Bible! Thanks again for the ever-increasing number of followers out there, you all complete me:)**

Commander Cooper pulled the collar of his undershirt over his mouth, the scent of the synthetic material only partially obscuring the smells of the crowded walkway to Kol'eron Beach. In front of him, his fellow Starfleet commanders Hofstadter, Wolowitz, and Koothrapali had already shed their dress uniforms for the more informal but still official Starfleet daywear, which consisted of short-sleeved versions of their standard issue blues. Cooper, however, still wore his full dress set, with his Starfleet insignia proudly displayed. He would leave no doubt as they worked their way down the blue paved pathway that he was in every way an honorable officer of the Federation.

He sighed as they squeezed through the crowd, trying to get to the sanitary stations where they could relieve themselves, wash up, and change into their bathing suits. The whole affair was absurd and quite annoying to Cooper, who had no intention of leaving the purple sands of the shore. He hadn't wanted to go on the furlough anyway; the only reason he had taken the transport beam down to this noisy, germ-infested hell hole was by Captain Riker's orders.

"Go down there and have some fun, Cooper, you've earned it!" the Captain has said in that loud, blustery way he did when he tried to appear informal. "It might give you a chance to unwind and think."

"I can assure you, Captain, I am in no way 'wound up', and I can think perfectly well in the confines of my lab and quarters," the Enterprise's Chief Science Officer had protested.

"Go on, take a vacation! Relax!" Riker had countered. "If anything, it will be a vacation for me from your endless status reports and safety trials."

Cooper had been slightly offended by the Captain's dismissive attitude towards the quality standards the commander tried to hold for himself and the rest of the crew. "Captain, with all due respect…"

"Commander Cooper! That's an order!" Riker barked, his patience tested. "Now move out, beam down and enjoy yourself!"

There was no use arguing with the man, even through the use of logic and precedent. So, here he was, trudging through the sweaty mass of humans, Romulans, Klingons, Bajorans, and who knew what else to go traipse around, getting purple particulates in his underwear, being roasted by Gorkon's orange sun, and being eaten alive by the infamous Kol'eronian sand mites. And that was if he stayed on the beach. If he dared to enter the bubbly pinkish water, he also could expect to be nibbled on by any number of marine species, not to mention whatever bacteria had washed off the dirty, sweaty tourists who frequented the resort planet.

Of course, the planning of the whole weeklong ordeal was left to Wolowitz, which was the equivalent of handing the keys of the Manhattan Project to Dr. Frankenstein. Only the ship's head engineer could have found a way to book a berth during the festival of Sh'nek-taa, when every hormone-crazed student within two quadrants came to ostensibly perform the Transcendence Ritual but in reality spent the entire time drinking gallons of the galaxy's cheapest spirits and engaging in interspecies coitus. It was enough to make Cooper imbibe Terlactian Blueberry Juice, which was famous for also dissolving oxidation off of the hull of hovercraft.

"Hurry up, Sheldon," Hofstadter shouted back to the fuming Cooper. "We've got to check in, get clean and changed, and back to the bar in time for the wet toga contest."

Cooper pulled down his collar. "Leonard, I hardly think watching nascent females of various planetary origins dowse themselves in green liquor and gyrate on table tops is appropriate entertainment for Starfleet officers."

"Suit yourself, Commander Pooper of Starfart," the already-inebriated Koothrapali shouted. "We've got a date with some alien hotties down on the beach. See ya, Dude."

The three officers headed into the station to change. The thought of cramming into those rancid, damp water closets made Cooper shudder with dread. He turned toward the long, crowded outdoor bar, where there were a few open spots and at least a stool to rest his hot and tired feet. The sun, bearing down on a 29 Celsius day, made him swelter, and a cool drink would be refreshing. Perhaps they had some Diet Coke, or at least some bottled water? He settled down and ordered, thankful they sold soft drinks, although the Bajoran bartender looked at him as if he were a Dugara street performer. A few moments later he sat in the shade of the awning, nursing his Diet Pepsi—the latest in a line of debilitating hardships on this pleasure cruise.

"NuqNeh, Starfleet," a rough, high pitched voice pierced through the noise behind him.

He turned around and lifted his eyebrows in genuine surprise. In his years in Starfleet, he had studied many different life forms, species, and natives from dozens of planets, but he had never seen a creature quite like the one who now greeted him.

"What up, 'IHpu?" the female creature chirped, smiling as she held a large glass of mirky purple fluid, garnished with what appeared to be a thistle leaf.

She was of average humanoid height for a female, and indeed, her torso and extremities were clearly human, with fair skin that glistened with protective Pamutan seed oil, giving it a slightly orange cast. Dressed—he used this term loosely—in a very meager two-piece bikini, her shape would have been aesthetically acceptable by Earth standards. But the story from the neck up was much more intriguing. The face was also humanoid, with an average nose, full lips, and green eyes, but he could clearly see her sharp incisors touching the edges of her bottom lip. The forehead was bumpy and rough, forming a sort of wavy pattern up to the crown of the head. Long tresses of sun-bleached blond hair fell down on both sides of the forehead, wavy and free-flowing in the gentle breeze, save for two thin braids on either side of the expressive face.

"Qastah nuq, Spaceman?" she asked, her friendly tone now darkening as a result of Cooper's lack of acknowledgement. "Doesn't Starfleet teach you how to greet a stranger?"

It was clear this girl was no ordinary life form. The fit, lithe body, the bright, cheery face, and the whiny dialect were from Earth, most likely Midwestern North America. But the terse_ thlngan Hol_ interjections coupled with the rough cranial features were obviously Klingon, although he had never seen a _thlngan _with blonde hair. This was clearly a new, hybrid species, like nothing he had ever seen before.

"You speak Klingon," Cooper blurted, snapping out of his surprised demeanor.

"That's because I _am_ Klingon," she replied quickly, her head bobbing slightly to the right.

"And human," Cooper continued, surprised by her surly attitude towards a Starfleet officer.

"Yup," she said, smiling proudly. "Born in Nebraska, raised on Starbase Alpha 18."

"Fascinating," he mused, then gathered himself and placed his palm on his chest. "JiH Jaghla' Shel-donh Kupr, Duj 'En-Ter-PraS, eq Tera'."

Her mouth formed an exaggerated "O" and her eyes got large. "Wow! You're a Starfleet Commander from Earth?" she said with a mock gasp. "The pale skin and stuffy uniform totally fooled me."

"Excuse me, Miss, but are you using sarcasm?" he retorted, furrowing his brow.

"YlDoghQo, Jaghla'!" she said, inching towards him. "You know we Klingons don't do sarcasm. Qapla'!" She slapped her chest with her closed fist, jostling her drink.

Sheldon squared his shoulders and straightened his arms to the side. "But Earth girls do sarcasm, don't they?"

"Uh, yeah, I guess," she replied, surprised by his genuine question. "Let's try this again. My name is P'neh LoqPeh, from the Cheesecake Factory at Starbase Gamma 12. But most of my friends call me Penny."

"Oh, well, Penny, I am Commander Sheldon L. Cooper, Chief Science Officer of the starship Enterprise. But you already knew that."

"Yeah, I figured that out," she said with a droll grin. "Listen, I didn't mean to bother you, but I'm just trying to help out a friend. Do you see that slinky Vulcan over my shoulder?"

Cooper looked and pointed to a tall, thin girl down the bar in a blue jumpsuit. "You mean that one waving at me now?"

Penny turned and drew her finger across her throat, mouthing "Cool it" to her friend, who was sitting next to a short blonde Brekkian in spectacles. Turning back to Cooper, she beamed a toothy smile and continued. "We're all here for Sh'nektaa, and she wants to meet you."

"So it would seem you are her wing man," Cooper mused, still considering the Vulcan, then looking back to the hybrid. "You should know that it is against Starfleet regulations to fraternize with local citizens in a non-official capacity, not to mention initiating conjugal relationships."

"I'm not talking about conjugation, I'm talking about drinks and party conversation," Penny said, rolling her eyes. "Anyway, you're supposed to be on leave, right? So loosen that dress shirt and come say hello."

She reached for the top button on Cooper's shirt, and the officer parried her with his hand. "As an officer of Starfleet, I order you to cease and desist, or I will be forced to defend myself!"

"Okay! Stand down, Commander!" Penny jerked her hand away, wiggling her fingers as if to show she meant no harm. "I wasn't going to attack you, I was just…never mind. Besides, if I wanted to _jotlh_ you, you'd be eating sand by now."

Cooper fussed with his tightly-fastened collar and looked at the large cocktail in her hand, which had remained untouched. "Due to your obvious inebriation, I'll excuse your near-assault of an officer…this time."

She opened her mouth wide in disbelief. "I am not drunk, you big _bo'Degh_," she protested, placing her hand on her hip and taking a deep quaff. "I'll have you know this is only my second drink of the day, and it usually takes three of these things to even get me tipsy!" She nodded her head curtly to emphasize the last word, at which she stumbled slightly, then quickly recovered.

"Yep…definitely my th-third," she slurred hoarsely, catching her breath.

Cooper sniffed the thick perrywinkle suspension. "Is that fermented Terlactian blueberry juice, mixed with borghel eggs and Padari yak milk?"

Penny lifted an eyebrow and took another sip. "Mmm, so that's what's giving me that extra ki—ick," she stammered. "Damn, this shi—it is beating me like a_ p-puq_…"

"Where did you get this drink?" Cooper interjected, his scientific mind suddenly engaged.

She shuffled her feet, turning sideways and gesturing to the bar. "Somebody bought me this…oh there he is…" She trailed off and smiled in the direction of a Ferengi in a garish beach shirt and shades, who returned her smile with a raised hand.

Cooper looked at the would-be Lothario, then took the large glass from her increasingly unstable grip. He looked at it closely and frowned. "It's not the juice that's impairing you," he announced, pulling the thistle gingerly out of the glass with his fingertips. "It's this Gorkonian Ju'ber weed, which is known to cause dizziness, blackouts, and motor impairment. Someone was trying to slip you a mickey." He threw the leaf to the sand, stamped on it, then kicked sand over it.

"Hey buddy, what the _frunj _do you think you're doing?" the Ferengi now strode up to the officer and the wobbly coed. "That was the lady's drink. Let her have it if she wants."

"Yeah, lemme have id if I wannit…" Penny stumbled, reaching for the glass with grasping hands.

Cooper held it out of her reach. "Oh no, _be'qub_," he held out his arm, blocking her. "You've had enough already!" He poured out the liquid on the purple sand, which made a hissing sound on contact, sending a plume of smoke and the smell of sulphur into the air.

"Typical Starfleet bull _rocht_," the Ferengi sneered. "You get a fancy suit and you think you're the boss of the universe. Well, you're not the boss of me, see? Here's what I think of your Federation."

The interloper lunged for Cooper's insignia, but before he could grab it, the commander reached out and clamped his hand on the Ferengi's shoulder, halting his advance.

"Cease and desist, by the authority the United Federation of Planets!" Cooper intoned in his most intimidating voice.

"What the hell—" the assailant gawked as he was cut off.

"Just a little something I picked up from my friends on Vulcan," the commander sniffed with a bemused smile. "This should neutralize you until the authorities can be summoned."

"Ow! I don't think…you're doing it right…" the Ferengi grunted, struggling in Cooper's grasp.

"I…received a Certificate of Completion…from the Vulcan Intergalactic Learning Institute seminar…last year," Cooper groaned, starting to strain against his attacker.

"Well then…how can I do…THIS?" the Ferengi pushed against Cooper's grip with his shoulder and with his free hand threw an uppercut off of the Starfleet officer's chin, sending him spinning to the ground.

"Well, what are yer Vulcan buddies gonna think of ya now, Starfleet?" He stood over Cooper's supine body, shaking his fingers. "You can pinch somebody, but you can't take a punch."

A guttural cry erupted from behind the Ferengi's head, and he turned just in time to feel the back of Penny's hand against his lips. Bloodied, he stumbled forward as the screaming girl grabbed his bulbous ears and pulled him down, thrusting her knee into his stomach. She shoved him to the ground, and stepped on his chest pinning him to the sand.

"IhNod, Varengan Ha'DIbaH!" she roared viciously. "This is a Starfleet Officer, Ass-wipe! How dare you assault a Commander of the Starship Enterprise!"

She then unleashed a torrent of the most vulgar, scathing street _thlngan_, loaded with references to body parts and functions, maternal ancestry, animal husbandry, and threats of dismemberment. By the time she punctuated the tirade by spitting twice at the vanquished Ferengi, the beach patrol had arrived to fetch the grateful assailant.

Commander Cooper had become conscious during P'neh's verbal outburst, and as he began to gain his bearings, he saw the wild but friendly face of a blonde with braids and spittle at the corners of her grinning mouth.

"You alright, Jaghla'?" she said, her sharp front teeth accentuating her warm smile.

"I thought it would work…I made Leonard pass out back on the ship..."

"Why don't you leave the pinches to the Vulcans, and leave the ass-whipping to us Klingons?" she said, crouching over him.

"Fair enough," Cooper relented. She pulled his arms up and helped him to his feet, as the crowd that had gathered clapped and cheered. She began helping to wipe off the sand from his uniform. She stopped and looked at him pensively.

"Sorry, I forgot, I didn't mean…" she said, biting her lip and looking up in his blue eyes.

"All is well, Ms. P'neh Loqpeh," the Commander responded, his features softened. "You've more than earned the right to dust off my uniform." He then unbuttoned his top shirt and took it off, handing it to her. "Besides, I am on leave, and officially off-duty."

She smiled and took the shirt. "Now that's more like it. Let's go get a proper Terlactian blueberry cocktail."

"No thank you, but if you know of a way to obtain a Diet Coke, I would only be further in your debt."

"I'll see what I can do," she said, smacking his back and laughing.

"Cooper! There you are!" Hofstadter approached, with the other two officer nearby. "I just saw a big Ferengi being taken to the detention cell, what's going on?"

"Well, I was minding my own business, when this young…" Cooper began, turning towards Penny.

"…this young Ferengi dog gave me a spiked cocktail and tried to have his way with me," Penny interrupted, giving Cooper an assertive look. "But this long, tall Starfleet Officer, Commander Cooper of the Starship Enterprise, gave him a Vulcan neck pinch, then opened a can of _qajey_ on his _SaHut_!"

To emphasize the point, the girl smacked him on his butt, stirring a cloud of sand particles. Cooper jumped, then looked down disapprovingly as she winked and grinned deviously.

"Wow, I guess that Vulcan Seminar came in handy after all," Hofstadter smiled. "You're gonna have to teach us that back at the ship." He looked at Penny, pushing his sunglasses up his nose. "And who are you, young…lady?"

"Oh I'm no lady, Starfleet," the gregarious blonde quipped, extending a hand. "I'm half-Klingon, half-human, and all _be'mongI_ warrior_._ P'neh Loqpeh, intergalactic cheesecake slinger."

"She prefers Penny," Cooper chimed in. She turned and nodded approvingly.

The two girls that had accompanied Penny to the beach burst through the crowd and embraced their friend. "Are you alright? We saw the commotion and wondered if you were okay."

"Oh, I'm fine, I just had to get another round of drinks," Penny said, waving over Cooper. "Commander Cooper, this is Eh-me, from Vulcan. She's the one I told you about."

The tall woman with pricked ears and spectacles reached out stiffly and shook Cooper's hand. "It's such a pleasure to meet you, Commander. I am myself a product of the Academy, and hope soon to be deployed. Are you a Science Officer?"

Before he could answer, the diminutive Brakkian interrupted and held out a short-hemmed muslin toga. "Penny, it's almost time for the contest. You better get suited up."

Cooper turned to the blonde and considered her warily, eyebrows raised. "Please don't tell me you're participating in that prurient ritual."

Penny grabbed the toga and leaned in close to the Commander. "I'm not participating in that prurient ritual. I'm merely exploring my role in the greater cultural experience of Sh'nektaa."

"Sarcasm?" he returned, looking into her eyes.

"Klingons don't do sarcasm, remember?" she replied, her smiling eyes looking upward. "But earth girls do."

"There's only one thing I can say to that," the Commander intoned. He stood up straight, clenched his fist and beat it on his chest. "Baqh Tsing GaaH!"

The entire group mimicked the gesture and shouted, "Baqh Tsing Gaah!"

Penny looked at him, placed her hand on his cheek and kissed him, whispering, "Baqh Tsing Gaah, Moonpie."

"Only my SusNi calls me that…" he protested, as he leaned into her waiting lips...

Sheldon blinked as the Star Trek theme played on his alarm clock, precisely at 6:30. He stretched and yawned, having had a fitful night of sleep, recalling his dream of Penny as a Klingon-Earthling warrior. It gave him a chill, which he wasn't certain was a result of her brashness, the coarseness of her Klingon dialect, or the warmth of her kiss. Or it could have merely been the blueberries kicking back, he wasn't sure.


	10. Rising to the Occasion

Penny shuffled into the kitchen, certain that her cranium had expanded to the size of a large pumpkin. That would at least explain why she felt like she was a giant blonde bobble head, wobbling side to side and sending flashes of pain through her skull. She squinted her eyes against the light that sneaked through the curtains above the sink, but mercifully, someone had drawn the shade and turned off the lights, so that only a dim half-light filled the front of the apartment. She could barely open her eyes, and would have walked right into the table, had she not heard the guttural groan coming from the slumped figure with her head on the formica top.

"UUUGGHHH…" Amy's voice sounded low and groggy, like a tape being played at half-speed. "This must be what the Elephant Man felt like in the morning…"

"You're not an animal, you're hung over," Penny grumbled as she slogged to the cabinet, grabbing two coffee cups. She scooped instant coffee into the mugs and turned on the hot water, then almost swallowed the dry coffee grounds before she had mixed it. After a few perfunctory stirs, she stumbled to the table and nudged her friend.

"Move over, Elephant Girl," she groaned. "I gotta squeeze my mongo head in here, too."

After a few sips of coffee, Amy spoke up, her voice less fibrous. "Why do we drink, Bestie? Why? We know the result will be regurgitation and dehydration, resulting in lethargy, headaches, and light sensitivity. It's a self-compounding conuh…conuh…oh hell, it's a pain in the ass."

"Because rather than deal with the emotional impact of life's troubles, we seek to numb the pain and achieve a state of euphoria, no matter how brief." The blonde blinked her eyes and rubbed her temple. "Oh God, that was way too many big words for this early in the morning."

"I must be rubbing off on you," Amy croaked. "You've got a good working knowledge of neuropsychology."

"No, I read it in that paper you and Bern wrote for my psychology class," Penny yawned, rubbing her eye. "Way to step it up, by the way. Got a 92. We're really exceeding the prof's expectations."

"_A Neuropyschological Approach to Post-Adolescent Behavior in the Girls Gone Wild Series_," Amy said, reciting the paper's lengthy title in a slow, bleary drone. "We did do a lot of research on that one."

"Just so you know, I may have participated in one of those videos," Penny said, closing her eyes and resting her chin on her hand.

"Really?" Amy suddenly perked up, sitting up straight.

"Yeah, just because it was College Spring Break didn't mean you had to be in college to join the party. The only prerequisites I needed were Beer Bong 101 and Introduction to Flashing."

The two girls lounged silently for a few minutes, drinking their coffee, with the occasional moan breaking the silence. Just as Penny was starting to doze, Amy spoke.

"Bestie," she said flatly. "Are we okay?"

Penny opened her eyes and looked at her friend wearily. "Why wouldn't we be okay?"

"Well, just, the whole thing with Sheldon and the wrestling and the kissing and all that…" She lacked the energy to finish the sentence, leaving the air heavy with unresolved ideas.

"Listen," Penny sat up, sliding her hand over to Amy's. "That Whack-a-Doodle is not going to get in between our friendship. For all his problems, he is _your _boyfriend, and one of my best friends. You know what you need from him, and you're the one that has your name on that Agreement. So yeah, things are great between us."

"Oh, I'm so happy," she said with an overly bright tone, then winced from the effort. "Besties Forever."

"Yup," Penny replied, putting her head back down on the table. A few more moments of quiet passed, then Amy sang softly to herself.

"I want your love…love, love, love…" she mumbled, lifting her finger in time with the tune, while Penny looked up with a confused look on her face.

Sheldon carefully poured the milk on his Raisin Bran, estimating the six ounces needed to sufficiently saturate the flakes so as to be palatable yet not too soggy. Sure, it was a crazy thing to do on a Saturday morning, but after the night he had, Sheldon felt the need to throw caution to the wind. Hopefully, by choosing a high-fiber cereal, he would be able to pass all of that awful blueberry goo and flush the memories of the last evening down the drain.

As usual, Leonard was sleeping in, which was just as well, as Sheldon liked the quiet of the apartment early in the morning. The street traffic was lighter, so there was less incidental noise outside. He could relax in his Spot without any need to remind anyone that it was indeed his, and he could watch all of the Doctor Who he wanted without interruptions. Still, Sheldon was feeling a bit fuzzy, due to the fact he could not get the optimal amount of REM sleep he required to face the day. So, he carried his bowl of cereal carefully to his Spot, placing it on the table. He picked up the remote and turned on the HDTV, settled in and began watching the program.

_I really wish I'd stayed asleep long enough to kiss her._

The thought came literally out of the abyss of his subconscious, which no doubt was more conscious than usual due to his fatigue. This caused him to reflect on the dream that he would rather forget. It gave him enough of a start to make him shake his head and blink, just to make sure he wasn't dreaming again. But no, he was fully awake, and shook his head with a slight snicker at his foolishness. He sat back again, picked up his bowl and spoon and began eating his breakfast.

_She certainly made for an attractive Klingon, and her salty thlngan was strangely arousing. Qapla'!_

He snapped out of his stupor to find his fist on his chest, and his blood pressure and heart rate elevated. Now he was growing concerned. This kind of subconscious back chat was coming out of nowhere, and seemed to be a direct result of his horrendous, dream-disturbed sleep cycle. And what was the impetus of that, but the actions of a certain blonde she-devil across the hallway who had used acute physical stimuli to initiate a series of chemical secretions and synaptic responses, which unleashed a hormonal maelstrom of animal instincts, an involuntary desire to mate with the strongest and most fertile female in the group, for the specific purpose of procreating his own _homo novus_ species, and naturally, the male subject's reproductive organs would respond in the most primal manner, reflexively interpreting these signals to initiate coitus, thereby sending an electrochemical message to his genitalia to prepare his seed to be unleashed, and then…

Sheldon felt intense pressure, and looked down to his crotch, which had risen to the occasion. He folded his hands in his lap, swallowed his mouthful of cereal, and looked at the TV screen.

_Darn that Klingon girl and her man hands…_


	11. What It Looks Like

**Well, now, Sheldon's got a problem, hasn't he? But he's not the only one with awkward feelings. Penny's just remembered she left something behind and needs to get it back. Quickly!****  
As always, the overwhelming support and interest in this fic inspires me to keep writing. Thanks for your kind words and dedication! I hope you continue to enjoy this story as much as I am! Oh, and today's fun fact is: In 1928, Russian engineer Leon Theremin invented the Etherphone, a primitive electronic instrument that is played without being touched, but by moving one's hands through the air surrounding it. Don't you feel more enriched already? But wait, there's more...  
**

Penny pushed open her front door and looked warily across the hall, cursing herself for being careless enough to leave her purse in the boys' apartment. Sure, she had to make a grand exit, with her face plastered in purple goo, and stopping to pick it up would have taken what, two seconds? But now, she had to go back after last night's fiasco and try to retrieve it without too much awkwardness. Maybe everybody else got drunk and forgot? Maybe the boys went into a sugar coma and woke up thinking they'd dreamed the whole thing?

_Oh God. Dreams. _The last thing she wanted to think about. How could she face Leonard, whom she had just started dating _again,_ knowing that she'd been telekinetically ravished by his roommate in an imaginary elevator? She looked at the yellow tape stretched across the long-disabled double doors and whispered a quick word of thanks. She had never been so happy to have to walk up and down the four flights of stairs.

And then there was _him._ _ God, please let him be in the shower, or in his room taking a nap, or taking a long bladder-voiding break. Anywhere but the Spot. _She dreaded the thought of having to face him today. Maybe tomorrow. Or any day after that. But the images and feelings she had felt the night before were too fresh for her to have to try to deal with any of his crap. Just seeing him, his face, his hands, his eyes…_Oh God_, she thought again, rubbing her forehead.

As she came to the door of 4A, she drew in a breath, closed her eyes, exhaled, and knocked on the door. For the first time she had been neighbors and friends with the two scientists, she wished she could beam in and out of their room without having to actually talk to them, like they did on one of those space shows…

* * *

When Leonard had emerged from his room around 11 that morning, he had been surprised to not see Sheldon in his Spot watching his Doctor Who episodes as was his usual wont. He was even more surprised to see that he had left a wet washcloth on the floor of the shower, and that he had left cold wet footprints from the bath to his room. He also found two half-melted ice cubes on the floor in the kitchen, something that if Leonard had allowed to happen would have earned him a lecture on cleanliness and safety from the punctilious physicist. Apparently, Sheldon was not feeling well, because only sickness could explain his lapse in maintaining the high standards of domesticity outlined in the Roommate Agreement.

He considered knocking on Sheldon's door just to make sure he was alright, but then thought the better of it._ Why look a gift Hothean tauntaun in the mouth_, he reasoned. Following Han Solo's logic in _The Empire Strikes Back_, he took the change in routine as a lifesaving respite from the bone-chilling cold of Sheldon's frosty personality.

Leonard was in the midst of a documentary on the invention of the Theremin when he heard Sheldon's door finally open about one o'clock. _Get the tea bags and the cough syrup ready_, he thought to himself as he prepared for the usual sniffling and whining that accompanied Sheldon's various infirmities. He came out of his room, opened the freezer, and started rummaging through the ice tray in a strangely desperate fashion. Leonard turned to see what the commotion was about and nearly dropped his can of Coke.

There was Sheldon, standing pigeon-toed in front of the refrigerator in his pajamas, holding an ice bag on his genitals.

Leonard tried to process the sight as a thousand awkward questions with equally unpleasant answers floated through his inquisitive mind. Sheldon saved him the indignity by cutting off his line of inquiry before it began.

"Leonard, this isn't what it looks like," Sheldon rambled off in an agitated tone. "And I'm not just saying that like Penny did the morning she and Raj emerged from your room after an obvious night of wild coitus like two libidinous co-eds. There is a logical but very personal reason for this."

"Really?" Leonard asked with a skeptical look. "Because it looks to me like you're icing your balls. Not that I'm saying that's good or bad or anything. It's just…strange. Get a little wild practicing your light saber moves?"

"No, Leonard."

"Try to re-enact the Speeder Bike scenes from _Return of the Jedi_?"

"Of course not, Leonard."

"Hot cocoa spill?"

"Leonard, you know I never drink hot cocoa this early in the day."

"Hacky sack accident?"

"Don't be absurd, Leonard."

"Unfinished Wet d—"Leonard caught himself, the full weight of his words bearing down on him. His face screwed into a look of disgust. "Please, Sheldon, tell me you did not finally have a—"

"Leonard!" he interjected in a hoarse whisper. "While you may have no compunction about discussing your genitalia in open conversation, I prefer to keep my private areas private. Now please, resume your inane activities and leave me to my…self."

"Yeah, I wouldn't want to get between you and your baby blues," looking down at his crotch, then immediately averting his eyes. "It's like a train wreck, I can't not look…"

"Oh, Leonard!" he groused, walking in pained, awkward steps to his room. "Ow. Ow. Ow…"

Leonard plopped back down on the sofa, but his mind was whirling with unpleasantness. How did this happen? Had Sheldon's testicles descended overnight? Did he have a dream about Madame Curie? He tried to concentrate on the swooping sounds of the bizarre instrument playing "Good Vibrations" on the TV, but he could only keep going back to Sheldon's crotch. _Good God, I really need to get laid_, he thought to himself.

The knock on the door brought him out of his ill-ease. He rose and answered it, pleasantly surprised that it was his girlfriend from across the hall, not only because she refrained from her usual quick entrance after a rapid knock, but also because of his sudden need for her beautiful distraction.

"Penny!" he said, with uncustomary enthusiasm. "Am I glad to see you!"

"Yeah, well, nice to see you, too," she said haltingly. "I just came by to get my purse."

"Oh. Well, come on in." He felt a strange level of formality in the room as she entered. "I was just going to get some Coke. Thirsty?"

"No, I need to get going. I'm working an early shift today. I'll just get it and go." She stood near the door, not wanting to turn it into a full visit.

"Okay, well, I think it's over here," Leonard headed over to the coffee table where the contest had transpired just a little over 12 hours before. "Uh, how's your stomach feeling?"

"Well, after a visit to the porcelain throne, everything came out all right," she said, immediately wincing when she heard herself. She wouldn't dare mention the drinking, the arguing, the bed-sharing, or the horrible night's sleep she had. Not that most of that would've been a surprise to Leonard, who was all too familiar with Penny's late night routine.

"Yeah, I was worried about you, I should've went over there and checked on you, but you seemed pretty upset, and I figured you needed some girl time."

"Well, yeah, I guess I needed some space," she answered, twisting her fingers. "You find it?"

"Yeah," Leonard pulled the purse from behind the table and walked over to her. "Did Sheldon ever…?"

"Apologize?" Penny answered, suddenly becoming irritated. "Of course not, the turd. But I should've known he was too good to lower himself to admitting he was a real flesh and blood human being."

"Oh, he's definitely flesh and blood," Leonard sneered, his face reading a mixture of bemusement and dread.

A question mark formed on Penny's face and she was just about to ask what he meant by the off-color remark when Sheldon burst out of his room in nothing but a T-shirt and Batman underwear.

"Leonard, do you have any water-soluble lubric—" He stopped as he saw Penny and stood like a wounded praying mantis in front of the hallway, his erection distorting the shape of his briefs.

"This isn't what it looks like," he stammered, as Penny turned to look at Leonard, her mouth and eyes opened wide in shock.

"Oh, blast you, you Klingon hussy!" Sheldon bellowed, hobbling back to his room. As his door slammed shut, Penny pointed towards the noise, her mouth still frozen in the shape of an "O."

"Yeah, definitely flesh and blood," Leonard sniffed, his face pinched in a look of discomfort.


	12. The Piper Takes MasterCard

**We continue later that evening...**

The rest of the day had been a blur. She remembered kissing Leonard goodbye and then mumbling something about "never being able to un-see that," then going through all the motions of work: hustling for mostly ungrateful customers, dealing with grumpy chefs, terse managers, sore feet, cheap tips, and finally, the lonely drive home. She could have stopped at a bar and downed a few drinks, but she also could have run into any number of men she'd been with and hooked up, and she was trying to be a one-man woman these days, and it just wouldn't have felt right.

She could have made a booty call to Leonard; it was their go-to move when things got stressful, weird, dull, or they were too drunk to really care. He was always game, and the little guy always tried hard, and sometimes, meaningful but substandard love-making was better than mind-blowing, body-rocking, mega-orgasmic sex with no emotions attached.

Hell, she could have turned on some music, filled her bathtub with scalding hot water with big fluffy bubbles, lit a few candles, poured a glass of wine, laid back and loved on herself, hitting all the right spots, blowing out all the stress, and just pleasuring herself until she was a wet, blissed-out, self-sated lump of happy.

But then he had to go and screw everything up.

It wasn't bad enough that she had the Batman theme playing on a loop in her head all night. It wasn't bad enough she spent half her shift thinking about Klingons and then wasted her one break Googling them on her Android, only to find out they were those ugly things with bumpy heads from Star Trek. That got her so upset she screwed up her next two orders and dumped someone's turtle cheesecake on the floor. It wasn't even bad enough that she'd forgotten to pick up another bottle of wine, so that even her hot date with herself was a no-go.

No, the worst part of this whole clusterf**k of a day was that seeing his…thing flipped a switch. Cracked open a door. Struck a spark. It turned on something that she had never wanted to start, and now no amount of sex, booze, or shopping would settle the growing storm that gnawed in her gut.

Sheldon Cooper really _was_ a man. A hella lotta man. And she _wanted_ some of that.

But the idea of even seeing him as a mature adult filled her with disgust. Part of his "deal" had always been his innocence, his seeming immunity to the tawdry, base things that filled her and everyone else's minds: Money, social status, possessions, reality TV, beauty, and her personal favorite, sex. Yes, yes, yes! Spreading her legs and taking someone's body into hers made her feel alive! But for Sheldon, it was dirty, disgusting, unsanitary, and, worst of all, inconvenient and distracting. When one was solving the mysteries of the universe and winning a Nobel Prize, one didn't have time to engage in coitus, his favorite word for the act.

And the truth was, it was one of his most attractive qualities. For all of his annoying quirks, phobias, routines, stuffiness, bad clothes, and snootiness, there was something about his purity of heart that drew Penny to him. It had started out as pity, then morphed into a kind of sympathetic teacher-student thing, then a sisterly loyalty, and now, what? Sexual attraction?

_Bleaagh!_ She winced as she sat on her couch, nursing a Diet Coke, staring at the blank TV screen, trying to drive the crawling sensations of dread from her skin. And yet, she'd overcome that creepy feeling many times with guys, whether it was the boss she wanted to get a raise from, the nerd who was writing her term paper, the jock who dated the cheerleader upon whom she was exacting her revenge. She'd even had make-up sex with that same cheerleader after a conciliatory bottle of tequila! She'd flirted with teachers for better grades, directors for bit parts, and yes, policemen for torn-up tickets. Sex was just a means to an end: her happiness. _But what about sleeping with someone who actually challenges me would make me happy?_

The question hung in her mind, bringing with it another: _Would Sheldon ever actually want to sleep with me?_

* * *

Sheldon lay in his bed as he had done the whole day, steeped in torpidity and shame. It had started with the stress of dealing with his physical discomfort, and having to try to overcome his body with the power of his mind, and failing, knowing that his mind was really the cause of his problem. For it was from his nervous system that all of the troublesome waters of lust had sprung. True, it was his penis that most obviously manifested his desire for coitus, but it was merely the tip of the iceberg, so to speak. For behind his physical presentation of sexual interest was a sea of chemical and electrical impulses, fed by physical stimuli, as well as the emotional and mental processes of recall. In the vernacular, he was indeed a "hot mess."

In his mind, he could never have denied that Penny was a physically attractive specimen of humanity. Her proportions, fitness, and above-average hygiene made her an ideal mate for any given _homo sapiens._ Of course, Sheldon was no mere _homo sapiens_, a fact that made the issue all that more troubling. Returning to Penny's less-evolved state, her genetic make-up, such as it was, fit well within the parameters of the Western concept of beauty. It would not be a stretch to say that she was pretty, and, when she made an effort, and avoided her tendency to tramp it up, she could be almost fetching. Lovely, even. Eye-catching, certainly. Fascinating, in any case.

Then, of course, there were the less-objective qualities that kicked her desirability "up a notch," as they say. When not trying to attract every male of the species with her feminine mating calls, she could be quite pleasant and even winsome with her "sunny" personality. She was annoyingly childish when it came to things like television shows, music, and other such lowbrow entertainments, and yet somehow she had a way of making one _want_ to join in her pedantic interests, even if one had never experienced them before, just for the experience of doing them _with_ her, and her presence made even something as horrific as driving a car without a license or running two miles worth remembering. Then there were the idiotic nicknames. Moonpie. Whack-a-doodle. Sweetie. The list goes on and on. She prattled them over and over until you actually preferred her stupid, inane appellations, as long as they were coming out of her mouth.

Going even deeper, there were physical and behavioral quirks that critically could be considered flaws, but that had the inverse effect of making her more desirable. She was a profligate drinker, a veritable alcoholic, and yet the way she casually cradled her glass, or the way her lips caressed its rim, made you want to keep it full just to watch her lift and sip again and again. The way those full lips kinked asymmetrically, making her smile crooked, almost as if its warmth defied her imperfections, made her face glow with an idiosyncratic perfection. The way she could wear her hair in any style and still be inviting, whether she had it tied up in a rubber band on the top of her head, or braided loosely to the side, or swept up in the most elegant coiffure, was maddening in its allure. /

_Drat, the foresail is swelling again, _he grimaced, stretching his legs out.

It had been like this all day, him trying to measure, test, probe, and calculate all of the data his brain had been accumulating on the imaginary marker board, all the while fighting his physical urge to mate. He realized that his battle was futile, and the only way to relieve the pressure and discomfort of his swollen genitals was to literally take matters into his own hands. He had experienced nocturnal emissions, and even experimented a few times with manual stimulation, but the unpleasant aftermath and clean-up had been so distasteful that he concluded it was not worth the trouble to continue pursuing it. That was when, in desperation, he sought out Leonard's assistance, knowing he was well-experienced at such things, and given his current relationship, was likely to have the necessary materials to perform the procedure.

He had not expected _her_ to be in the apartment, and that had been the ultimate indignity, having her see him in his unmentionables, and in such a deplorable state. Immediately after running into his room, his flesh, unable to contain the surfeit of hormones, burst like an overheated sausage, and he fell on the bed, his body shuddering involuntarily as he soiled his favorite Batman briefs. Just the thought of her seeing him nearly naked was too much for him to bear.

While relieving the pain in his scrotum, it left him limp, damp, and contaminated. After thoroughly showering and disinfecting, disposing of the ruined clothes, and changing his sheets, he crawled into bed, and had remained there for the duration. He fell asleep at one point, which, like everything else this day, had been outside of his regular schedule, so now it was late and he was not restful.

He had even given up his mental marker boarding, and just lay flat on his back, thinking about all of these things, trying to find a logical solution that eliminated these feelings altogether, or at least suppressed them so that he could continue to co-exist with his neighbor without any unpleasantness in their interactions. But he had no precedent, no previous research, not even an untested hypothesis, upon which he could build even a tentative resolution to the problem, other than the one that would be most painful, most difficult, the one with the biggest potential for error, and therefore highly likely to end in a negative result. But he had no choice.

He had to go visit Penny. Immediately.

* * *

_Screw the wine, screw the bubbles, screw the candles. Just screw me. _She realized the only way to deal with any of this shit was just to open her legs and take it all in. So she stood in her shower, her massage head pulsing, sobbing and gasping, saying over and over, "I love you, I love you, I love you, God damn you!"

She didn't know if she was talking to Leonard, Sheldon, her cheerleader friend, or herself. But she felt almost alive. And that was the important thing. But being almost alive hurt worse than being dead. Because at least the dead don't have to worry about falling in love. Whether it was with your friend, your neighbor, a stranger, or your teammate. And the dead don't have work, or make small talk, or try to pretend they're not feeling something, or have sex, or pretend to have sex, or dream about having sex. The dead just had to lie there and be quiet, and that didn't seem like such a bad deal right now.

_Just tell him how you feel,_ a voice in her head said gently.

"No, you don't understand," she heard herself say. "He doesn't feel _anything._ How can I explain how I feel to a robot?"

_Robots don't have those,_ the voice countered, referencing the previous afternoon's incident.

"You'd think that would make it easier, right?" she returned, turning the shower head down to a gentle spray and replacing it in the hook. "But it doesn't. It only makes it weird and sick."

_Since when did that ever stop you from getting what you want?_

She sat down in the tub, the water hitting the top of her head and trickling down in rivulets on her face. "I don't know what I want with him. That's the problem. It's like I'm on this journey, and it's taken me this long to figure out I feel this way. How much longer will it take just to know if he even understands what it means?"

_That's love, Sweetie. A long, long journey with someone you trust. Where you go doesn't matter. As long as you're with your best friend, you're golden._

"But what if he doesn't love _me_?" she sobbed, her voice cracking with emotion.

_He will always be your Moonpie. Always._

She whimpered in disgust, throwing her hand against the bottom of the tub. There was no answer to her question. At least inside her head. She sat on the bath mat for a few minutes, the water slowly turning cold, washing away the rest of her pleasure and shame. Somehow, over the din of the shower, she heard it, and her heart seemed to go in two directions: up into her throat, and down into her guts.

_Knock. Knock. _

"Penny."

_Knock. Knock._

"Penny."

_Knock. Knock._

"Penny."

Something was wrong. He only did two knocks. Everything else was right, but he only did three sets of two knocks. This was not good.

She didn't want to see him, didn't want to hear him, didn't want to even acknowledge his existence, but she knew she had to go open the door. It was time to pay the piper. She just hoped he took Visa.


	13. Making It All Too Hard

**Happy May Day! Well friends, we've finally reached the breaking point. Surely Sheldon and Penny will confess their love for one another in a beautiful moment of romantic discovery...right? As always, your kind words and encouragement nourish the muse in my soul㈴7**

"Hey, Sheldon."

She stood at the open door, her hair wet, dressed in a silky robe that was scratchy and clung to her wet skin. She was barefoot, and the air was cold, but somehow managed to hide the quaking inside her belly, and greeted her neighbor and friend with a neutral, fatigued look. He stood in front of her, dressed in a crisp blue robe over plaid pajamas, slippers, and socks, holding a clothes basket that had obviously been hastily filled, its contents piled haphazardly together.

"Hello, Penny." Sheldon also was stoic, as if he had been wrestling with one of his alien creatures all day. "It's laundry night. I was going to offer to gather some of your things for you and wash them."

"You're lying, and it's the one thing you are incapable of doing, so don't even try. Drop it." She nodded towards the basket with a smirk.

"I'd rather not, at least until I state my business, and as that will take longer than the usual pleasantries, may I come in?"

"Sure, Sheldon," she said, backing up and letting him in, her face not betraying her inner stress.

He took precisely two steps into the room as Penny shut the door behind him, his basket still firmly in front of him.

"So, What's up?" she said, still standing. While he would never admit it, he always liked the way she said those words.

He continued, standing up straight. "Penny, I know the last two days have been highly…irregular for us, and I wish to clear the air as to some matters that have come up in the interim."

"You think?" she said, cocking her head in a look of incredulity.

"I do think, but that's not why I have come to you tonight. The things I have to say are very…sensitive, and as such, I have to request that you refrain from any questions or interjections until I have finished addressing all of my items."

"Okay," she said, tilting her head. "Well, don't you at least want to address them sitting down? You can't be comfortable like that."

He stood, looking pensive, then relented. "Very well, I would prefer to sit down." He found a spot on the couch, walking stiffly in front, then, bending at the hip, he leaned forward, slowly bending his knees, and grunting, fell back into a sitting position, resting the basket on his lap.

Penny could not help but smile. "You know you're being ridiculous, right?"

"Penny, you agreed to refrain from any questions until I was finished," he said, folding his arms over the half-filled basket. "If you can hold your peace, I can begin."

"Please, Dr. Cooper, the floor is yours," she said with a smile, sitting down opposite him, waving her hand and nodding her head.

"Thank you, Penny. I will speak to the events of the last 24 hours sequentially, beginning with our game night activities. Let me first of all congratulate you and Amy for soundly defeating Leonard and me in all five games: Pictionary, Where's Waldo, Spinning Math, Wrestling, and of course, the Pie-Eating Challenge. You both were the champions of the evening, and we salute you."

Penny's face visibly softened and her mouth opened, then she looked to Sheldon, who nodded for her to speak. "Amy and I thank you for a well-played game, and salute you as well for being worthy opponents," she said, then added in a much lower tone, "even though you were whipped by two girls."

She bit her lip as he turned a hard glare at her, then nodded apologetically as he continued. "Be that as it may, I also want to recognize that some of my behavior may have been construed as unsportsmanlike, which I now regret and hope that you will accept my sincerest apologies for any untoward behavior."

She blinked her eyes, but she kept her grin as plain as possible, even though she wanted to hug him for his humility. She merely nodded, allowing him to continue.

"Regarding the remark about your eating and drinking habits, I still maintain that you take far too much a cavalier attitude about them, and stress that while you are strong and healthy now, you may find it harder as you mature to continue to "work it off," as you say, and encourage you to practice moderation. That said, I want to apologize if any my remarks were crude or hurtful. You are most certainly not a pig, Penny. Far from it."

_Oh my God I want to kiss you right now,_ she thought, barely containing her awe-struck happiness.

"On a personal note, I do prefer you would not drink so much alcohol, as it only makes you sad and lethargic, and I much prefer you awake, alert, and your normal annoyingly cheerful self."

"Going cold turkey tonight," she said, raising her hand in a promissory gesture.

"Now who's the fabricator of myths?" Sheldon said, giving her a sharp glance.

She got an imperious look of disbelief, then looked at him with lidded eyes. "Continue, Dr. Cooper!"

"Thank you. I also wish to address the wrestling incident."

Now Penny's smile disappeared. Her mind immediately went back to kissing him over and over, and then to the image of her lying on the floor of the elevator as Dream Sheldon ripped the buttons off of her blouse, and how it felt to be on the receiving end of physical advances—even if it was with his mind. _Oh my God, no wonder he became so upset,_ she thought ruefully. The full magnitude of what she had done fell on her shoulders like a weight, and she felt a wave of remorse roll over her.

She looked at him with tender eyes. "Sheldon, I'm so—"

"Please, Penny, allow me to speak. First, there is no need to apologize, as I have already released you from the guilt of the offense by forgiving you. But, I do feel it is important that I discuss my..." he swallowed, then continued. "…My feelings about the incident. Penny, you know that physical contact with others is something that I have only recently begun to acquaint myself with, and that I take great care to never touch or allow myself to be touched in any way that could be unsanitary, unsafe, or inappropriate."

Her eyes welled up as she nodded her understanding.

"Penny, you are much more than just a neighbor to me." His eyes took on a softness she had never seen before. "You are my friend. And, as such, I have allowed you to touch me in ways that few other people have been able to. I…deeply value our friendship, and…I ask that you please do not touch me in that way."

The tears were rolling down her cheeks now. "Oh my God, Sheldon…you have my word, Sweetie. Never again." She broke down, her face red with regret.

He looked at her silently for moment. "Well," he started, closing his eyes begrudgingly. "I suppose _never_ is a strong word, as expecting you to refrain from touching me in perpetuity would be unrealistic if not impossible, so…"

She perked up a little and interrupted, "…so how about this: No more wrestling, no more kisses. And no more hugs unless you give permission?"

He pondered her words. "That is acceptable," he answered, seemingly unfazed by Penny's shower of emotion. She grinned as he leaned over to the end table, retrieving a tissue.

"You have mucus coming out of your nostril," he said, extending the tissue to her.

"Oh? Sorry, sorry!" she said, taking it and blowing her nose. "I hope you're finished, because I don't think I can take any more 'items.'"

"I only have one more, and it is probably the most difficult item to discuss," he said, looking down at his hands.

"Don't, Sheldon," she said, sniffling as he waved her hand. "It's okay, let's just pretend it never happened."

"How can you say that when I haven't even stated what it was?" he asked, a slightly perturbed look in his eyes.

"The…underwear thing. You don't even have to discuss it," she said, wiping her eyes and gathered her composure. "We're adults, we've all seen it. I came in unannounced, like usual, and caught you with your pants down. You've seen me in the shower, remember? No big deal. End of discussion. Now, how about some pizza?" She stood up, an overabundant smile on her face.

"Penny!" he said, looking at her with the kind of look that made her stop dead in her tracks. It was a look of resolution and fortitude, that of a man with something important to say from deep within.

She sat down, looked over to him expectantly, and nodded her head. "Yes, Sheldon?"

He drew in a breath, and began. "It goes without saying that everything said this evening can never be spoken of outside this apartment. I trust that my confidence in you is sound, do you agree?"

She reached over and took his hand in both of hers, and swallowed hard. "Sheldon, the fact that you even want to talk to me means so much. Yes, this whole conversation goes with me to my grave."

"Even in the case of a zombie epidemic, in which you would be resurrected as a mindless, lifeless, flesh-eating monster?" He asked this is with the same look of strength and certitude.

"Uh…yes, yes, Sweetie. You have my permission to chop of my head before I can utter a word."

"Very well. Penny, the members of our social group, including yourself, have often joked erroneously that I am asexual, that I lack, as you say, balls. You say I am not a real boy, let alone a fully formed and virile adult, and that I haven't achieved puberty. Of course, all of these remarks are patently absurd and completely unfounded. I am indeed a fully matured adult _homo novus_, with fully functional reproductive organs."

"Sheldon, you left no doubt of that today," she said, then sensed his sensitivity to the remark and gestured locking a key on her lips.

"Yes, and I am truly sorry you had to see that. But getting back to my point, I was not that concerned about these swipes at my anatomical development, as I would have actually preferred it if they were true. Because as you well know, my life is dedicated to the discipline of theoretical physics. Focusing any more energy than absolutely necessary on one's physical needs was a waste of precious time and resources that could be focused on study, research, and problem solving. You may have all thought you were making fun of me, but in reality, I would gladly have been the butt of the joke if it meant I could solve the Higgs Boson issue or prove String Theory."

"Oh my God," Penny began sniffing back her tears again. "Sheldon…I love you."

He stopped, blinking his eyes in genuine surprise. "Well that was unnecessary. I was merely explaining how I feel about this whole physiological issue and…"

"It's completely unnecessary and foolish." She took his hand to her cheek and closed her eyes, rubbing it on her cheek. She smiled, and looked at him, "And I know I'm totally off-base by doing this, but if I did what I _really_ want to do to you right now, you would never speak to me again." She took the back of his hand and placed her lips on it, gently pecking it, and then placed it on her knee, running her thumb against his knuckles.

He was genuinely stupefied, unable to continue, and began stammering.

"I need…I need to go now. I need to rest...to get my REM sleep. Yes, I need to…."

He stood up, releasing his grip on the basket, and it tumbled to the floor, emptying its contents on Penny's carpet. His eyes shot downward, and Penny looked at his pants. On his crotch, he had placed a small pillow, and stuffed it in his shorts like a protective cup.

Penny fought with every muscle of her being not to smile. It took everything in her not to ask, "Is that a pillow in your pants, or are you happy to see me?" She didn't want to laugh at him, but laugh with him, to break the tension, to do something to show him that it was alright, and she was flattered that he felt this way.

Then it hit her. _Is Sheldon actually…into me? Did I make him do that?_

Sheldon was nervously inching towards the door. "Sorry, sorry…I have to go. I will pick up my basket later…or have Leonard pick it up later…"

"No. No! No! No!" She was surprised at the urgency in her voice, but she ran to the door and blocked it, preventing Sheldon from exiting. "Now, I have an item I'd like to discuss, and I ask that you extend the same courtesy to me that I have given you. Can I trust you?"

"Y-yes, Penny, of course," he stammered, stopping in front of the door, his hands crossed over his groin.

"Please sit down, I want to talk to you face to face," she said, motioning to the couch. They both sat down quietly, and Penny swallowed, and spoke with a slightly hoarse voice, barely above a whisper.

"Did I scare you when I said I loved you?" she asked, looking at him with big eyes.

Sheldon sat, his hands crossed in front of him. "It was unexpected, to say the least. I…I have never been told that by a friend before."

"Really?" she said, her expression wide with emotion. "Amy never told you she loved you? Is that not in your Relationship Agreement?"

"Part of the benefit of having the Agreement is never having to say it, unless one wishes to propose that an emotional attachment clause in the event that the Relationship progresses to a deep enough level that such declarations would be deemed appropriate," he recited in his usual straightforward manner.

"Oh, Sheldon," she shook her head, her mouth edged in a slight grin. "Sheldon, what I meant was…was that I…love having you in my life. I love everything about you. Your weird habits, your routines, the way that you carry yourself…I mean, it drives me insane sometimes, but…you're really the most amazing man I've ever known."

Sheldon leaned back, surprised. "Well, I must say that the feeling is mutual. I…love having you in my life as well. I have grown quite fond of you, in spite of all your considerable shortcomings, I truly have come to enjoy your company, your personality, and your friendship. You're a real peach, Penny."

She sighed, and a warm smile came over her reddened face as she took his hand in hers. "You're making me blush, Dr. Cooper."

"Well, what do you know, I'm a real Casanova, aren't I?" he snickered with big dimpled cheeks. "Girlfriend," he guffawed awkwardly, waving his hand in an off-hand way,

"If I was your girlfriend, you wouldn't need that damn pillow," she said, the heat rising in her cheeks, her eyes narrowing. "Can I ask you a really, really personal question?" She leaned up on her knees, drawing closer to his face.

"O-only if you don't c-come any closer," he said, his face morphing into a look of angst. He clenched his hands over his groin.

"Did I make you hard?" she stopped, looking at him intensely.

"Y-you always make it hard…" he gulped "…To focus my mind on anything but…your big, googly eyes."

"Googly, huh?" she said, pursing her lips and regarding him with warily. "You really know how to charm a girl. Answer the question!" She said, her face zooming in six inches closer.

"Well, it wasn't you that caused my penis to become erect, if that's what you're asking!" He said, now drawing his hands to his chest and cowering slightly. "It was caused by hormonal secretions as a result of my physiological urge to mate."

"Sheldon," she said, leaning back slightly. "You don't get 'mating urges' and 'hormonal secretions' because it's your time of the month. Something got your motor running, as a friend, I wanna know—was it me, Amy, that green chick from the new _Star Trek_ movie, who?"

"It wasn't you…" he squeaked out, his face twitching. "It was a Klingon…"

"AHA!" she said, clapping her hands and sitting back. "I knew it! I…" she caught herself. "HOLY SHIT ON A SHINGLE! Is that why you called me a Klingon hussy?" Her face was wide open in shock.

"I—I really need to go now," he started to get up and pick his clothes off of the floor. "I've said far too much. I've really got to g—"

He turned towards Penny and stopped, his eyes wide and his mouth agape.

"Sheldon, wait," she got up, and walked toward the door.

He lifted a finger slowly towards her. "Penny…your…"

She looked down. Her robe had come open, her right breast completely visible.

Now it was her turn to stammer. "Oh-oh my God, Sheldon…I…"

He began to whimper, and ran to the door, still looking at Penny, but quaking with awkward fear. He opened the door clumsily and bolted out.

She stood there, looking at the door, then her chest. She turned and walked slowly, in a daze. She kicked something on the floor, then bent down to pick it up.

It was one of Sheldon's socks. Light blue with dark blue stripes.

She ran a hand to her face, her head shaking.

"Oh my God…what have I done?"


	14. Lady Mondegreen is Smiling

For the next six days, Penny and Sheldon lived as if the events of the weekend had never happened. Sheldon made a point to not cross the hallway to her apartment for any reason—even when he had a question about a type of shoe that Amy had mentioned being fond of on their Sunday evening outing. Luckily, his adeptness as searching the internet allowed him to avoid that interruption. For her part, Penny also avoided any trips over to the apartment. She managed to lure Leonard over Sunday night for dinner by text, stating that she had a surprise for him. Of course, they ended up in bed, which made Leonard happy, but Penny was conflicted, although, as always, she hid it perfectly. There was no way she was going to let on that Sheldon had gotten a free peek at her nip, or that she'd bumped Leonard down to No. 2 on her "Most Fascinating Nerds" list.

Monday night was the first time they interacted face-to-face since "the Touch Talk," as Penny would later call it. Thai Food was ordered and retrieved in the standard way, and Sheldon's order was the same as it always was, and Penny gobbled up her noodles and laughed with the others as they watched _Duck Dynasty_, a reality show that Raj, of all people, was currently obsessed with. She greeted Sheldon, and they shared a pregnant glance, but nothing else out of the ordinary transpired. They said their goodbyes at 10 o'clock and went their separate ways.

On Wednesday, they managed a brief encounter in the hallway, Sheldon on his way up the stairs from the mailbox, Penny on her way down to meet a friend for lunch. They said hello, exchanged brief pleasantries, and moved on. That evening was Halo Night and Penny begged off, taking an extra shift at work. Sheldon, of course, seemed no more or less disinterested than usual in her affairs, and the boys had a great night of questing, fighting, and carnage.

Saturday night was laundry night, and Sheldon had no intention of altering his routine for the sake of avoiding Penny. Penny, of course, had an overflowing basket of soiled clothing to wash, so she couldn't afford to delay any longer. So the stage was set for them to end up in the laundry room that evening, all alone except for the drone of dryers and swish of agitators.

Sheldon was busy with his folding board, finishing his first load of shirts when she arrived a little after 8 o'clock.

"Hey," she said, taking a washer on the opposite side of the room.

"Hello, Penny," he replied, returning to his folding. She silently began sorting her clothes and pulling out her quarters. For the next ten minutes, the shared a heavy silence as their machines droned on, the occasionally buzz indicating cycles were ending and clothes were ready to be moved on to the next destination. Eventually, Penny turned away from Sheldon as she transferred her first load to the dryer, and Sheldon was cleaning the fabric softener dispenser for the third time. He pulled off his rubber gloves, then poured a cup of softener, turning on the machine.

"You made a mondegreen, you know," he said offhandedly, still facing his washer.

Penny stood up from bending over the lint filter in her dryer, a look of annoyance on her face. "I made a what?" she asked, not turning towards Sheldon.

"A mondegreen. A grammatical error caused when one hears a word but interprets it with the meaning of a homophone," he lectured, returning to his folding. "It's a common enough phonetic mistake. Most people don't even realize they do it and go through their whole lives misunderstanding and mispronouncing their own native tongue."

Penny huffed and leaned on the dryer pensively. "Okay, I'll bite," she said with a sigh, turning towards her neighbor. "What heinous crime have I committed against the English language?"

Sheldon blinked in slight surprise. "Oh, no crime, merely an error," he continued. "Last Friday, in the aftermath of our contest, you substituted the proper name Nobel with the adjective 'noble.' You said, 'At least I'm not the _noble_ prize winner for the World's Biggest Ass.'"

"Oh my God, Sheldon, you are NOT going back there are you?" Penny cried out, incredulously. "If you wanna have this conversation, you're going to have it with yourself, because I'm taking my wet underwear and going back to my apartment." She grabbed her basket briskly, then stopped. "That sounded dirty, but you know what I mean," she said as she began gathering her clothes from the dryer.

"Well, it's been bothering me since last week, because when you tell your grandchildren you were friends with a Prize-Winning Laureate in physics, I don't want them to think that I was just a well-born or generically excellent physicist who won non-descript prizes."

"Don't you worry, Sheldon," she said, flipping open a newly-filled washing machine. "I'll make sure they know you were THE No-BEL Prize Winner—in Physics and Ass-tronomy!"

They both stopped what they were doing, looking at each other.

"You see, you made a pun," he said, pointing to her. "Remind me never to take you on in Wordplay! You're good!"

"Whatever," she said, shaking her head over the water-logged clothes in the machine. "I'll have to come back later and get these out." She threw the rest of her dry clothes on top of the dirty clothes that had remained unsorted and lifted her basket.

"Since I've obviously made laundry night difficult for you, I'd be happy to finish your laundry and bring it up to you when it's done," Sheldon offered.

"Oh, you would, would you?" she said, holding her basket on her hip as she turned towards him. "Has my wordplay made you so happy you need some camouflage?"

He looked at her with confusion, then straightened when he gathered her meaning. "I don't need to camouflage my genitals, if that's your meaning."

She rolled her eyes and looked down at Sheldon. "Thanks for the great visual. I'll leave you to your Mandarin thingies." She turned to the door and started walking.

"It's mondegreen," he corrected, watching her leave with a look of concern, then spoke in an urgent tone. "I've been thinking a lot about you this week."

She stopped, puffed out her cheeks in disgust. "Goodbye, Sheldon," she said half-heartedly, moving toward the door.

He moved a step forward. "I really enjoyed our visit, at least until things became…awkward," he said, averting his eyes towards the ground.

She squeezed her eyes shut and sniffed, still facing the door. "I did too, Sheldon."

He stood for a moment, not sure where to go in the conversation. Finally, he muttered, "That is all."

Penny pursed her lips and opened her eyes. "Okay, Sheldon," she answered, her voice low and ragged with emotion. "See ya later." She reached for the door.

His face took on a hint of panic. "When you touch me, I don't feel afraid anymore," he blurted.

She stopped, and two tears rolled down her cheeks, falling on faintly-smiling lips.

"I like the way your hands feel holding mine, Penny. As long as they've been properly disinfected, of course."

She dropped her basket at her feet and turned around her eyes burning with annoyance, but her mouth kinked in a smile. "Sheldon Cooper, you are an ass!"

"Well, I am a Nobel prize winner, after all," he added drolly.

She strode up to him and engulfed him in her arms, and he wrapped his arms around her, and then gently patted her head as she laughed tearfully into his chest.

"There, there," he said, stroking her hair. "Sheldon's here."

She lifted her wet face and looked up into his eyes. "Backatcha, Moonpie."


	15. Hand in Hand into the Next Frontier

**Well, friends, we finish up in Penny's apartment, the launching pad for the Starship Shenny... in this little corner of our parallel universe, anyway. It took them long enough, yes? Thanks to all of you for your reviews, follows, and favorites, your support truly warms my heart:) Oh, and thanks to those of you who corrected me on the nightly food-and-game schedule! Until next time, dt.**

They were sitting in her apartment, two loads of clean laundry setting on the floor. They sat on the couch, looking at their clasped hands, both relaxed and quiet. After the silence had been officially broken in the laundry, they talked for an hour as they finished their clothes, Sheldon spouting endless information about word games, his favorite number, and who was the better Enterprise Captain, and Penny going on about work gossip and how weird she felt because she was attracted to Jase Robertson from _Duck Dynasty_.

But now they were sitting quietly, the air around them swelling with questions, emotions, and uncertainty. Their relationship had taken a new turn, establishing a new paradigm, and they were still coming to grips with it. Penny ran her thumb over the back of Sheldon's hand, taking in the details of his fingers, and rapidly finding herself falling in love with his long, slender phalanges. The truth was, she had been fascinated by his hands for years, and was relishing finally getting her paws on his, and could not stop herself from imagining their intricate dexterity working up the skin on her arm and other extremities.

Sheldon was also keenly examining her digits, in particular her fingernails, which he found pleasantly short and well-manicured. He also found himself admiring the strength in her carpal musculature, and imagined her wrangling horses and livestock with her bare hands, and wondered if he should relax the ban they had instituted on wrestling. The fact was, there was something strangely comforting about being in the grip of someone he admired, and he pondered her skills as a masseuse, and if he should slyly ask her to "tweak" his sternocleidomastoid.

"So where are we, Sheldon?" Penny broke the silence, still looking at his hand in hers. "And where are we going?"

"We're in your apartment, Penny," he answered plainly. "And while I can't speak for you, I know I am going to my apartment, performing my evening routine and going to bed."

She tossed her head and rolled her eyes, looking at him with annoyance. "No, Dr. Smartass. I meant us," she said, motioning between them with her free hand.

"I don't understand," he said honestly. "We're still friends, and neighbors, and seem to have resolved our issues from the past week. I would say our friendship is functioning at an optimum level of congeniality."

She sighed and looked at him thoughtfully. "You know things have changed, right? I mean, you've revealed parts of yourself that I honestly didn't believe were real. And I've revealed…" She looked down at her chest and nodded to her right side. "…Little sister here, among other things."

"That was quite a revelation," Sheldon said quietly, unconsciously looking at her bosom. "But do you really consider the right one the more diminutive of your mammary glands? As I recall, it has a bit more length, visually speaking."

"How did you…" she gawked, then narrowed her eyes. "So, you really did take a peek when I fell in the shower!"

"I may be a gentleman, but I am not blind," he said, a playful look in his eye. "And I assure you, I was not the least bit titillated by your…"

"…Titties?" Penny finished, looking over at him coyly, a wide grin slowly filling her face.

"I prefer the term mammaries, or, to be more colloquial, 'abodes.'"

"What, you don't like that word, 'tits'?" she said, bobbing her head and carefully accentuating the t's. "How about boobs? Jugs? Hooters?"

"Penny, don't be vulgar, it doesn't become you," he chided.

"Oh come on, Sheldon," she snapped, leaning back and puffing her chest out. You can't handle my Girls? Knockers? Cans? What's the Klingon word for 'em, Captain?"

"'ChabDu', which can also be translated 'dumplings', but that's beside the point," he said, wincing slightly. "Seeing you parading them like that makes me uncomfortable."

She slumped back down, and looked at him with affection. "Do you see what I mean? We just had a five-minute conversation about breasts. Things have changed! We're…closer now. Special. Kinda like…best friends." She took up his hand in hers again. "Best friends who hold hands?"

_And who fantasize about those hands holding other parts and having more than just conversations about boobs,_ she thought to herself lustily.

"Best friends? That's quite an evolutionary step in our relationship paradigm. That may be grounds for drafting a Friendship Agreement."

"Uh, no-no, there will be no signing on the dotted line," she said. "I don't do contracts with friends."

"Well, fine, let your life be willy-nilly," he said, playfully snatching his hand away. "But I don't take being your best friend lightly."

"Neither do I. It takes a hell of a person to be YOUR best friend," she said, nodding her head. "I know, I'm dating him."

"That brings up an important point," Sheldon cautioned. "How do we break this news to Leonard? And Amy?"

"We don't," Penny responded. "This will be our secret alliance, so to speak. Y'know, our clandestine affair?" Her face beamed with nefarious mischief.

Sheldon began twitching. "No, no. You know I cannot keep a secret, especially from Leonard. This will never work."

She took his hand in hers and ran her other hand up the underside of his forearm. "Come on, Moonpie. Live on the wild side. Be dangerous. Go where no Sheldon has gone before."

"And where is it that I'm going?" Sheldon asked, nervous.

"Well," she said, looking up thoughtfully. "We've been on a six-year mission to seek out new life and experiences. We've been to the farthest reaches of our own little galaxy, and now it's time to find the next frontier."

"Penny," Sheldon interjected, becoming calmer. "Do not speak the Prologue in vain. It's the bedrock upon which the Star Trek Universe is built."

"What I'm saying," she said, turning her eyes back to his. "Is we're on this long, long journey, and we may not know exactly where we're going, but it's doesn't matter, because we're with our best friend, someone we would trust with our life. And as long as we have that, we're golden."

"Fascinating," Sheldon said, getting a faraway look in his eyes. "I can accept that."

She lifted his hand to her lips and kissed it, then raised her eyes, enlarged with affection, "That's my scientist," she cooed.

After a few more minutes of staring into each other's eyes, Sheldon swallowed and took Penny's other hand in his.

"Penny, may I try something?" he asked, looked at her with wide eyes.

"Sure, Sheldon," she replied with a sideways look. "Whatcha got in mind?"

"This," he said, and then pressed his lips to the back of her hand. Her face instantly flushed and her eyes closed, her face widened with a demure smile.

"Mmmm," she breathed, "That's nice. How long have you been planning that?"

His lips made a slight smacking noise as he raised his head and looked in her eyes. "That was an impromptu decision. After all, you dared me to walk on the wild side."

"Hmmm, Fascinating," Penny smiled, her hand still stroking his arm. "Very, very fascinating…"


End file.
